Don't Need a Glass Slipper
by QuartzClaw
Summary: Misty's goal is to become a successful school president. With an antisocial jerk of a best friend by her side, a dense, accident-prone new student, a girl who insists on sharing the cafeteria table with her, an egotistical vice-president, a genius bookworm, a haughty yet popular rich kid, and an overly bubbly fashionista, as well as other new acquaintances, this might just work!
1. Setting Goals

**Hello, all of you wonderful readers! Welcome! Whether you may or may not know, I am QuartzClaw, a writer here, and this is a brand new story that I am starting.**

 **Now, so far, I've only been doing one-shots, but I am finally going to step out of my comfort zone and try writing a full, multi-chaptered story. I really hope I can manage to write all of it, though I'm not planning on giving up on it or anything.**

 **So anyway, this is an AU Pokemon story, focusing largely on the anime characters, with the main focus being on Misty. There are Pokemon in this world, but they are not the main focus (funny, because it's a _Pokemon_ fanfic). It's more a world where Pokemon are just there, but the whole world doesn't revolve around them. More similar to our world (except our world doesn't have Pokemon, but you get the point).  
**

 **So anyways, I hope you all enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon in any way, shape or size, and it is going to stay that way throughout the whole story, so I'm just going to say this once and not every chapter.  
**

* * *

 _Misty is not like Cinderella. She is not helpless. She does not tolerate her sisters' obnoxious behaviour, nor does she rely on a fairy godmother to suddenly pop up and magically solve her problems. And she definitely does not wait around for a prince to find her by the use of a lost glass slipper so she could lift herself to a better position. If she wants something done, she isn't afraid to get her hands dirty._

 _Last year's school president had been voted purely out of popularity and bribes, and had done nothing fruitful all year. This year, though, Misty is determined to become president herself and make sure the year is much more productive. Although a little backup might be required._

 _With her antisocial jerk of a best friend by her side, a dense accident-prone new student,_ _ _a clumsy food-loving girl who insists on sharing the cafeteria table with her,_ an egotistical vice-president, a genius bookworm and her 'nerd club', a haughty yet popular rich kid, and an overly bubbly fashionista, as well as other new acquaintances, this might just work!_

* * *

 **Don't Need a Glass Slipper**

 **Chapter 1: Setting Goals  
**

"Ugh," Misty groaned. She buried her face into her pillow, but it was no use.

"Shut up," she muttered, rolling over, clamping her pillow tightly over her ears. But she could still hear the painfully loud ringing filling her room.

 _That stupid alarm clock just doesn't know when to quit, does it?_ the ginger-head thought irritatedly as she tried to reach over to her side table. Unfortunately, the culprit that had awoken her stood tauntingly just out of reach, forcing the seventeen-year-old girl to have to leave her heavenly bed to go slam her hand on the 'off' button. She flopped back down after that, but as she had already gotten up, her eyes were refusing to comply with her wishes, and therefore preventing her from entering her sacred dreamland.

"I hate you," Misty hissed at her alarm clock, which stared smugly right back at her.

She kicked off her covers and let her feet drop off the side of her bed. Stretching, she stood up and began walking to her closet, from which she pulled out her usual jogging outfit and headed for the washroom. She hated being woken up from her slumber, which was why her sisters never dared trying, the alarm being the only one who didn't fear her wrath, but she _did_ like going for her daily summer jog.

After washing up and changing, Misty stepped out into the cool, refreshing early seven o'clock air, and began heading down the sidewalk. She breathed in the freshness of the late summer air, which was slowly becoming cooler along with the changing season. The tree leaves were steadily shedding their green colour for yellow, orange and red, and a few had already accepted the summons of gravity and fallen to the ground.

Summer was nearly over, and with it, the holidays were ending. School was going to start in a few days' time, meaning Misty might not have enough time for her morning jogs once it did. Might as well enjoy them while they lasted.

But this year, Misty was also looking forward to school. Not because of the workload or homework or tests and exams, but because she had big plans for this year. It was her final year before graduating, and she wanted to leave her mark before she did.

By becoming school council president.

* * *

"Come on, open up already!" Misty grumbled as she impatiently tapped her foot, waiting for the door to open. She jabbed her finger at the doorbell once more.

She had completed her morning jog, showered, ignored her sisters (which took a lot of effort), grabbed breakfast, and was now standing at the doorstep of her best friend's house. Her rude, antisocial, snarky best friend, but still her best friend.

"Come on, you plum-head, open up!" Misty yelled.

He was doing this on purpose, she knew. He was the only one (other than her alarm clock) who had absolutely no fear of her temper. Yes, her sisters riled her up sometimes too, but they were careful not to push her past her limit. Not that she ever blew up at her fullest at them. No matter how much she hated their treatment of her, she couldn't get violent with them, no matter how much she tried.

"Paul Shinji, open up at once!"

Paul, on the other hand, would just treat her viciousness with smirks or a bored look, depending on how much she amused him with her creative threats. He had no fear of her at all. Not surprising, really, given the fact that he'd known her since fifth grade, and normally never seemed to be frightened by anything in general. But it still annoyed her how he purposefully got on her nerves.

"SHINJI, YOU BETTER OPEN UP OR I'LL—!" She stopped when the door began opening. "It's about tim— Oh, sorry Reggie!" She quickly went from yelling to apologizing embarrassedly as not her friend, but a man of about twenty-six opened up. Paul's older brother Reggie.

Reggie laughed amicably. "Oh, don't worry about it. Sorry for not opening up sooner."

"I thought you'd be at work," Misty muttered, feeling her cheeks flush red.

"Oh, I was just on my way," the man said. "Just needed to use the washroom first. Well, come right in! Paul's up in his room."

"Thanks!" Misty quickly got over her embarrassment and stepped in. That was the thing about Reggie. He was always so friendly and open, and from the way he spoke, you could never feel awkward around him for long, unless, of course, he was teasing you. Quite the opposite of his younger brother.

"See ya, I'll be off, then! Close the door behind me, will ya?" Reggie gave a wave as he walked outside.

"Sure thing! Bye!" Misty waved back, and then locked the door once he was gone.

"Now to give _you_ a piece of my mind!" Misty huffed, talking to an imaginary Paul as she stomped up the stairs.

Once she reached the top, she quickly located her friend's bedroom door, which was labelled 'Paul' in fancy artistic letters, and barged in.

People who saw Paul in public would often expect his room to be dark, dull, and plain. But if they were ever to see his room in real life, they'd be surprise at just how wrong they were. The walls were white, the hardwood floor was a light brown, and light flooded in through the white curtains of the window on the wall opposite of the door, bringing brightness. The single bed on the far right hand corner, like everything else in the room, was neatly made as usual, as Paul Shinji did not tolerate messiness. But other than that, the room just looked impressive.

The reason for that being that it was practically a mini art studio. There were a few neat, organized desks in his room, each serving as a station for a different kind of art.

To the right was the drawing and sketching desk, where there were sketchbooks, papers, different kinds of pencils and colours and erasers and sharpeners among other sketching tools. There was a small bulletin board where notes and small sketches and pictures were pinned on, and several mirrors, one on the wall to the desk's right, one on the wall right in front of the desk, a small handheld mirror, and one with an adjustable stand.

The second desk was against the wall to left, the same wall where the closet was, and it was where Paul created his sculptures. The desk drawers contained boxes of clay and sculpting tools, as well as other small things like beads, toothpicks, metal wires and the like which could also be used for making sculptures. Currently, small detailed clay figurines of Pokemon stood in a straight line, looking like they had been recently created and painted.

Finally, there was the workplace at the far left corner of the room beside the closet. This was the painting station, where stood a paint stand along with several canvases. The desk was a smaller desk, as Paul mostly just used the drawers to store his different kinds of paints and paintbrushes and other paint supplies. It looked like he had finished a painting latterly, as a stunning fully painted canvas of a Charizard in action stood drying on the canvas stand.

But at the moment, Misty, who had been in the room countless times before, was not looking to be impressed.

"Paul Shinji, did you not hear me when I was calling you?!"

There he was, sitting in a black rolling chair at his drawing desk, his purple hair combed tidily so it looked slick as it framed his face. His straight, neat clothes were comprised of primly ironed black dress pants, and an equally neat grey button up shirt. The teenage boy didn't even look up, as he was too engrossed in whatever he was sketching.

"Go away," he muttered as he focused on his work.

Misty planted her hands on her hips. "Unbelievable! You don't even care that you let your friend stand right outside screaming her lungs out!"

Paul briefly lifted his left hand to give her a dismissive wave. "Later."

Misty glared at his purple head darkly, and still she got no reaction. "What are you even drawing?" she snapped.

"You."

" _Me_?!"

"When you were screaming, I had a sudden surge of inspiration."

"Huh?"

"See? I'm done." Paul finally straightened up and held out his sheet of paper. Misty took it from his hand, and once she saw what it was, her eyes widened and she gave him the most deathly glare she could muster.

"Y-you—! You—! Ugh!" She threw it right back at his face, which was watching her with amused, taunting eyes.

"It's not that bad, if I do say so myself," Paul commented mockingly as he took the sheet in his hand.

"You made a Gyarados with _my face_!"

"A quite accurate depiction of you, really."

"Oh, I am _so_ gonna kill you!"

"Wow. So _dramatic_. Maybe you should give up on sports and go into theatre. I'm sure the drama club at school would love to have you... if they weren't so scared of you."

" _You_ should be the one scared right about now!"

Paul gave a hint of a smirk as he began tidying up his desk. "I'm sending this to the art gallery," he said, waving the picture in her face.

"Don't you dare!" Misty snatched it from his grasp, crumpled it up, and tossed it into the wastebasket with more force than necessary.

"Oh look, you ruined my drawing," Paul drawled.

"I'll ruin your face in a moment!"

Paul gave a smirk and stood up, shrugging his shoulders to loosen them up and extinguish the stiffness.

"Are you going to keep looking at me like that all day?" he said, eying her scowling face amusedly.

"Ugh!" Misty finally sighed. She went over to his bed and fell back onto it.

"Don't do that," Paul said with slight irritation. "You'll mess up my bed."

"You back from Sinnoh?" Misty said, ignoring what he had just said.

"No, I'm still there. You're just hallucinating." He sat back down onto his chair.

"Haha, very funny." Misty rolled his eyes. "So how was it?"

"...Fine." His answer was blunt, straightforward, and completely neutral, devoid of the amusement it had possessed just a mere few seconds ago.

"That's your answer every year. Every summer, you go to Sinnoh. Every summer, after you come back, you say it was fine. Say something different for once."

"It was tolerable."

"Oh, I give up." Misty sighed and sat up. "You ready for school?"

"No." He leaned back in his chair. "Takes away too much time for when I could be doing something useful."

"Like entering art competitions?"

"Exactly."

Misty laughed. "Oh really, why do you even enter so many? It's like your obsessed! Sure you love art, but you enter a contest, like, _every day_!"

"You know the answer to that."

"Paul, you've already collected enough scholarships and prize money to get into the University of Cerulean. You don't _need_ this much! I'd say you're all set."

"Who says I'm going to the U of C?" Paul said lazily, folding his arms behind his head and crossing his legs. "What if I said I wanted to get into one of those elite, fancy shmancy universities instead?"

Misty laughed. "Oh, as if! Paul, you hate those kinds of places. You and I both know that that's never going to happen!"

"What about you, though?"

"What about me?"

"You're hotheaded, stubborn, short-tempered, violent, you constantly threaten the student population, and did I mention that half the school is terrified of you?"

"Gee, thanks." Misty rolled her eyes. "What's your point? Last I checked, personality has nothing to do with getting into a university."

"My point is," he said, rolling his chair over to where she was sitting, "how exactly are you planning to get everyone to vote for you to be student council president this year?"

Misty froze. "How did you know about that?"

"About what?"

"About me planning to become president?"

Paul rolled his eyes. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because you've been constantly ranting last year about how much you hate the president for not doing anything fruitful all year, and how it would be different once you took his place."

"Well, I never really meant it then, but I made up my mind this summer while you were in Sinnoh. I was planning on telling you today, actually."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I ruin the surprise?" Paul drawled tauntingly. "If you tell me now, I can act surprised if you want."

"Oh, shut up," Misty said, taking his pillow from his bed and playfully tossing it at his face.

"Oh great, now you've messed up my bed," Paul muttered, placing the pillow back in its original position and carefully straightening it.

"Whoops." Misty rolled her eyes, not feeling sorry at all.

"So what's your campaigning plan?" Paul said, getting back on topic.

"Well, I was planning on making posters..."

"Like everyone else," Paul interjected.

"...and go from class to class, giving small talks on what I plan to do..." Misty continued, ignoring her friend's interruption.

"What else is new?" Paul muttered.

"...and maybe, um..." Misty trailed off as she tried to think of her next idea, but when it became clear she didn't have one, Paul began clapping mockingly.

"Bravo," he said sarcastically. "You will definitely win the elections this year, Misty. With your magnificent, _unique_ plans, of course you will!"

"Shut up," Misty said, sulking. "I'll win it. You just wait!"

"I'll enjoy watching you fail."

"Well, it's going to be one disappointing show for you, because I am _not_ going to fail!"

"Yeah. Sure."

 _Oh, I'll show you! I'll become student council president! You'll see!_

* * *

 **First chapter, completed! Yay!  
**

 **Now, before you guys ask about this story's shippings, I should say that I am actually not a shipper in general, but you, as readers, can view my writing in whatever way you want. What I prefer working on, though, is friendship, because I feel friendship is just such a beautiful and powerful thing. So I want to put the most emphasis on friendship bonds for this story.**

 **Now, updating. I honestly have no idea what my updating schedule will be like. I'm going to be very busy this month, and right after, school will be starting up again, and I know it's only going to make everything even busier. Not to mention I have my already-existing fic I'm working on, so I'll need to make a balance between this one and that.**

 **So really, I'll try my best to get you guys updates whenever I can, but I can't make a solid schedule just yet. Though I hope I can get the next chapter ready for posting by next week. So wait for me until then!**

 **So anyways, what did you guys think? I would love to know through reviews. And any tips on improvement and constructive criticism is always welcome!**

 **Bye bye for now! Have a great day, and smile all the way! :)**


	2. When Bikes Collide

**Hi, everyone! Thanks for all your reviews and follows. Means a lot! Anyways, here is chapter two. Yes, I'm updating earlier than expected, but I actually already had this chapter written out and was just looking it over. But don't expect frequent updates like this all the time, because I doubt I'll be able to manage getting you guys multiple chapters in the same week. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 **(I'm putting a small guest review reply section over here since I can't PM guests.)**

 _ **Reply to guest reviews :**_

 _ **guest : Thanks so much for the review! Hm, about Leaf, I guess the fact that she's not a real anime character makes it harder to give her a good, solid personality, making her more like an OC writers can use to their liking. For me, I can see her in many different ways, but yes, like many others before me, I did choose to make her a book-lover for this story. Although I'm also planning on trying to make her a little different by putting in my own twists, so I hope I don't make her too boring. ;) **_

* * *

**Now, onwards!  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: When Bikes Collide  
**

"Come on, come on," Misty muttered under her breath as she pedaled harder and harder.

It was the first day of school, meaning Misty was going to enter her final year: grade twelve. And because of that, she'd be able to run for president. But it was not only the students' votes that counted. The teachers always kept an eye on whoever wanted to be elected, and that meant Misty would have to maintain her 'model student' appearance which she had upheld for the past few years. Decent grades, being prepared for class, respect to teachers, clear record, punctuality, all of this needed to be kept.

Except she was running late.

First day of school, and she was already going to be late. It wasn't like it was her fault, though. Her stupid alarm clock had started ringing too early, and Misty, half asleep, had knocked it off her side table, causing it to fall to the floor and break. Okay, maybe it was _sort of_ her fault, but she knew it had been her sisters who had secretly changed her alarm's timing, ultimately leading to its demise.

And now, she had to hurry. Fortunately, being as athletic as she was, she was able to pedal for a long time nonstop. At this rate, she knew she could get to school on time. Hopefully.

 _Faster, faster, faster..._

She was glad she could behave herself when around teachers, being able to keep her temper in check, no matter how difficult it was. She had to always remind herself that she was _not_ allowed to explode on someone of higher authority, which was how she had been able to create that model student image in their eyes. But around students, it was a different story. She could never contain that temper of hers. The teachers were completely clueless of the side of her that her schoolmates bore witness to.

 _Come on, hurry up!_

But that 'good student' image of hers could crumble quickly in her teachers' eyes with a bad first impression. In other words, being late today.

 _Almost there, almost there..._

"LOOK OUT!"

A sudden yell startled her out of her need for speed, and she lost her rhythm, causing her to lose footing of her bike's pedals. Normally, she would have been able to regain balance and continue, but someone on his bike had suddenly crashed into her, sending the two tumbling to the ground.

"Oohhh..." Misty groaned, trying to get up. Unfortunately, her feet were tangled in her now scratched-up bicycle, and it didn't help that another bike was adding to the weight.

"S-sorry! I am so sorry!" the frantic voice of a teenage boy cried out. From the looks of it, he was the rider of the bike that had crashed into her, though he had somehow managed to get up and was trying to separate his bike from hers.

"Ow..." Misty struggled and finally managed to pull her legs from the heap of metal on top of them. She quickly checked her feet for sprains or injuries, but luckily, there were none. Although the black pants of her uniform were now dusty and had a tiny tear at one knee, and her blouse was no longer purely white, now sporting several visible dirt stains. She turned to the boy angrily. "Watch where you're going! We could have been seriously hurt!"

"Sorry..." The boy looked about her age, and was running his hand through his jet black hair, his brown eyes watching her worriedly. "You're... you're not hurt, are you?"

"You better be glad I'm not!" She stood up, giving him an intimidating glare which caused him to step back. But before she could scold him, she remembered something that made her curse out loud.

"Ugh! I'm running late!" Bending down, she began to pick up her bike.

"Yeah, me too!" the boy realized. He succeeded in picking up his bike, hopping on, yelling, "See ya!", and riding away faster than Misty could blink.

"That kid..." She dusted off her uniform the best she could. It suddenly occurred to her that the boy had been wearing her school's uniform, as well as a backpack. Did that mean he went to the same school?

 _Must be a new student,_ Misty thought, as she was pretty sure she had never seen him before in her life. As she began hopping onto her bike, she quickly realized something was wrong.

The wheel of her bike, as well as the metallic part it was attached to, was bent the wrong way. It was a small bend, but it was significant enough to make riding it impossible.

"He ruined my bike! Oh, I am _so_ going to kill that guy!" she murmured furiously. But what could she do now? There was no time to run back home to leave her damaged bike there, and there was no way she could ride it. And she was running late for school...

She was forced to choose her only option. With all her strength, she heaved her bike up over her shoulders and began running at maximum speed to Cerulean High School.

 _Once I get my hands on that kid, I am **so** gonna make him pay!_

* * *

Misty ended up not being late, arriving just two minutes before the bell. By some miracle, she managed to carry her overpoweringly heavy ruined bike all the way to campus, where she had to lock it up at the bicycle rack (despite the fact that no one would probably bother stealing it since it was currently unusable).

She had brushed the dust off her pants the best she could, but could do nothing to clean up her blouse. Fortunately, she had brought her blazer along, though she had tucked it into her bag since it was too hot to wear it. But she was sure she could bear a day feeling uncomfortably warm if it meant looking proper and tidied up, and thus she put it on for the day.

And now she was standing at the welcome assembly, only half-listening to what the principal, Mr. Lance, was saying, focused more on trying to locate Paul amongst the crowd. He was pretty difficult to find even in a small classroom, since he tended to blend in.

Instead of finding the one she was looking for, Misty's eyes landed on the black-haired boy from earlier. His uniform still looked dusty, and he appeared confused as if he couldn't understand what the principal was currently talking about. He was so innocent-looking, Misty felt almost guilty for making him her next target for revenge. But the guilt quickly evaporated when she remembered the condition her bike was now in, and how she had to run to school with it on her shoulders.

"Now you may all go to class. Have a wonderful year!"

Finally, Mr. Lance dismissed them, and Misty found herself quickly being crushed in the midst of the ocean of students. And then, by luck, she caught sight of a mop of purple hair somewhere in the crowd. Paul.

"Excuse me. Sorry." Misty worked against the horde, apologizing to the people she was accidentally bumping into as she made her way to her best friend. "Hey Paul!" she called, trying to catch his attention with a wave.

His black eyes landed on her disinterestedly, and he turned and continued on his way, ignoring her call.

Typical Paul.

A thoroughly irritated Misty began shoving back in the direction everyone else was headed, not bothering to make any apologies anymore. After much effort, she made it into the less dense hallways, where the lockers were located. Her eyes scanned the area, locking onto a certain purple-haired jerk.

"Gee, thanks a lot for leaving me back there," Misty said sarcastically as she hurried up beside him.

"My pleasure," Paul responded with an expressionless tone.

"Wonder what class we're in. Do you have your schedule?"

Paul silently pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her, which she took to examine and compare with her own. Paul just wordlessly walked on alongside her.

He'd been like that ever since Misty had first met him. Opposite of how he was king of his art studio at home, at school and in public in general, Paul became quiet and hidden. He was wearing uniform as required, but Misty knew if he didn't have to, he'd probably wear all dark baggy clothes, unlike the neat and tidy outfit he wore at home. His hair was not combed in the same sleek style, instead appearing choppy and unkempt, and lacking the shine it otherwise possessed.

His attitude became what people called 'unfriendly'. Yes, he was a jerk year-round, but at home, he was much more relaxed, and, at least in Misty's eyes, more open to a certain extent. Here, he became emotionless, and somewhat wary and cautious of others, regarding them with suspicion and distrust. His aloof appearance made it seem like he was emitting waves that said, 'Do not approach. I am not friendly.'

"Well, looks like we have several classes together," Misty said, handing him back the schedule which he stuffed in his pocket. "And first up is homeroom. Come on, let's get there before the good seats are taken."

Her friend just blankly stared straight ahead.

"When do you think the campaigning for student council roles is going to start?"

"..."

"Hm, probably later this month."

"..."

Misty turned to him with narrowed eyes. "Do you know how hard it is to try to talk to someone who won't speak? Talking isn't against the law, you know."

"Hn."

"Yeah. And 'hn' doesn't count as talking."

"..."

"HEY!" Misty turned as someone called out to her. And the one running up to her was none other than...

"You," Misty said dangerously, glaring at the black-haired boy.

"Hey, I wanted to say sorry about earlier," the boy said sheepishly. "I hope you didn't get hurt." He brightened up suddenly, a huge cheery smile on his face as if she had already forgiven him. "Name's Ash, by the way. Ash Ketchum."

"You. Ruined. My. Bike."

"Oh, um, sorry..."

"You're going to have to pay for it!"

"Wait, you mean as in buy you a new one?"

"Of course that's what I mean! What do you think?!"

"Ehehe... Hey, look at the time; class is about to start. Better get going! See ya!" With that, Ash made a hasty retreat, galloping down the hallway to escape Misty's insistence that he replace her damaged possession.

"Why you—! Get back here!" Misty yelled after him. She was about to start chasing after him when Paul poked her shoulder.

"Class," he reminded her. Misty found herself furiously glaring after the escaping Ash, but realized that Paul was right, and she had no choice but to let it go. For now.

"Fine," she huffed. "Come on, let's go."

The two arrived at their homeroom, where they selected their seats. Misty took out her pencil case and books, as did Paul. Despite having a different attitude at school than at home, it was evident from the way he neatly organized his things on his desk in a orderly way that his personality hadn't changed.

"Hey, did you hear about the new kid?" Misty heard someone say to a few classmates. There were a few students standing together beside one of the nearby desks, and Misty couldn't help but listen in. New kid, huh? Did they mean that Ash boy?

"No, what?"

"Someone heard him talking to Misty in the hall, and apparently, he destroyed her bike!"

 _Hm, 'destroyed' is a bit of an exaggeration,_ the orange-haired girl thought.

"Man, do I feel sorry for him! He's going to be dead by the end of the day. No one messes with that girl and lives."

 _Was that a compliment or an insult?_

"She sure has an insanely huge temper! I bet she could go toe to toe with Arceus and win! Poor Arceus wouldn't stand a chance against that violent girl!"

 _Says who?!_

"At least it's not like she's the king of this country or anything. One wrong move, and we'd probably be going to war!"

"Hahaha, I can imagine her yelling, 'Off with the head!' every time someone makes her lose her temper!"

Misty's heart fell. While she wasn't king or anything, she _was_ planning on becoming president, so if this was how the student body felt about letting her be in a position of high power, then her chances of getting any votes at all were probably close to zero.

 _But,_ Misty reminded herself, _this is the opinion of just those two, not the whole school._ Maybe there were a few here and there who'd support her. And if they did, maybe they could convince others to support her as well.

 _Yeah right. As if.  
_

The homeroom teacher walked in, introducing himself as Mr. Randell, and telling everyone to get ready because attendance was about to start in a moment. And just as the bell rang, someone crashed through the door.

"Sorry," he panted. "Got lost, so..."

Misty stared. It was that Ash kid again. He was in this class too?

"It's all right," Mr. Randell reassured him. "Ah, you're the new student, aren't you? Perhaps you could introduce yourself to the class."

Ash took a few final breaths to cease his huffing and puffing, and turned to everyone, giving them a huge grin. Misty could practically see rainbows and sunshine coming out of it.

"Hello, I'm Ash Ketchum!" he said happily. "I moved to Cerulean City from Pallet Town two months ago, since my mom decided to open up her restaurant here. It's called the Pallet House, and I'm telling you, my mom's an amazing cook, so you should check it out!"

Nobody seemed interested in the advertisement.

"So yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you all!" he concluded, beaming.

"Nice to meet you too, Ash," Mr. Randell said. "Now, please take a seat so we could start class."

Ash's eyes went over the room in a search for a place to sit. They landed on Misty, and widened slightly in horror. Misty rolled her eyes in return. She wasn't going to kill him _during_ class.

However, for some reason, he continued looking a bit nervous as, to her surprise, he started walking in her direction. And that was when Misty realized that the only desk available was the one beside hers.

 _This day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?_

Regardless of how boring it was, class went along swimmingly. As soon as the bell rang, Ash gathered up his stuff and darted out as fast as he could, something that irked Misty just a little. Okay, so some people were afraid of her, but she wasn't _that_ scary (right?). She didn't bite. She knew Ash didn't like sitting next to her, but it wasn't _her_ fault no one, other that Paul, dared taking the seat beside her, making it the only one unoccupied.

"Come on, what do you have next?" Misty asked Paul as he neatly put away his things.

"Chemistry," Paul answered briefly.

"Bummer. I have history. See you later, then!"

They went separate ways in the hall. It wasn't that Misty felt lonely not having Paul in the same class as her. She just preferred having classes together because he was the only one who didn't avoid becoming partners with her when they did partner activities. And in chemistry, they always did lab experiments which required working in a pair. Too bad they wouldn't have chemistry class together.

"Hey, give that back!"

"What's wrong? Can't you get it yourself, Ashy?"

Misty turned at the commotion, and rolled her eyes in irritation when she saw what was going on. A spiky-haired boy, from the looks of it, had taken one of Ash's books from him, and was refusing to return it, choosing to smirk at him teasingly as he jeered at him instead.

Yup, it looked like Gary Oak had discovered a new victim to pick on.

Gary Oak. He was the popular, intelligent yet laid-back grandson of the famous Pokemon scientist Professor Oak. Some called Gary Oak a bully, mostly those who were not included in his fan-base. Misty got the impression that he never intended to actually be _mean_ ; rather, he just found it funny to tease and mess around with others sometimes, despite it not appearing that way in some people's eyes. And he was just overly arrogant and egotistical, but that was about it.

That said, Misty was not one of Gary's fans.

Like everyone else, the red-head just decided to continue on her way. This was nothing new. Gary messed around with everybody all the time. He would leave him alone sooner or later, she knew.

"Hey, come on, Gary! I need to get to class or I'll be late!"

"Hm, let's see, this book says 'literature'. On your way to English, then?"

"Well, yeah. Can you give it back?"

Gary just laughed. "What? You really want to go to that soft option class? Trust me when I say it's a waste of time!"

Something inside Misty snapped at that moment. How _dare_ Gary call English class a waste of time! What right had he! Just because he was more interested in the science subjects, it didn't make it any right for him to look down on English class!

"Just what do you think you're doing!" Misty yelled, glaring at Gary with stormy sea-green eyes as she stomped up to him.

"Oh, has the Gyarados emerged from the Lake of Rage?" Gary said teasingly when his eyes fell on her.

"I'm serious, Oak, you give him back his book and quit being a jerk!"

"And why should I?" He smirked, not taking her seriously at all.

"Because if you have a problem with him, you're going to have to get in line because _I_ had a problem with him first, so you don't get to mess with him until _I_ get him to pay me back!"

"What kind of logic is that?"

"The kind _you're_ going to have to accept unless, of course, you'd rather I give you not one, but _two_ lovely black eyes to flaunt at school tomorrow!"

"Yeesh, calm down!" Gary continued regarding her with a smirk, though she did detect the tiniest hint of fear in his eyes. He tossed Ash's book back to him. "See? No harm done. Smell ya later!" With that, he began heading down the hall, probably to his next class.

"Hmph!" Misty crossed her arms indignantly as she glared at his retreating head.

"Hey, thanks for that," Ash spoke up. "Wasn't expecting to run into Gary here."

"You know him?" Misty asked curiously.

"Well, yeah. See, I'm from Pallet Town, and Gary is too. We grew up together, but he moved to this city a few years back. We didn't get along too well all the time, though, but we were actually all right."

"Yeah, he's a jerk." She went back to glaring in the direction Gary had walked off in.

"You know," said Ash, "you're kind of scary, but somehow, it works for you."

" _What_?!" Misty rounded on Ash.

"I-I mean... I mean that in a good way!" Ash sputtered, realizing how insulting he had accidentally sounded. "Like—"

"Listen, you!" Misty got up in his face. "This doesn't change anything between us! You still owe me a new bike, got it?"

"Oh look at the time!" Ash said quickly, backing away. "Gotta find my next class! Later!" He sped off.

"What? Wait! You get back here!" Misty roared after him.

"Thanks for helping me out, though!" Ash called back as he disappeared in the crowd.

"He got away again," Misty muttered. "That little..."

Having no choice but to leave him once again, Misty began heading to history class. She glimpsed Gary leaning against some lockers, smirking as he chatting with some fans of his.

"He's just a jerk," Misty muttered to herself. "No need to get angry over what he said. He was probably just joking around. English _is_ pretty boring after all..."

Despite how Misty had acted in defense of English class, she actually did not enjoy the class herself one bit. No, she found it either unbearably boring or unreasonably tough. She didn't care what famous playwrights wrote centuries ago. She could barely even understand their plays. It was all just a big bore, and then, when the time would come to write an essay, she would have no idea what she was doing wrong, but for some reason, her teacher would insist she was missing critical elements.

Yup, she was not a fan of English class.

So why had Gary's words bothered her? It was mostly the fact that he had acted as if that class wasn't worth bothering yourself with, because it was useless. He probably didn't mean it, since the significance of English class was highlighted by the fact that it was an essential subject for getting into any program in any university, but it had still reminded Misty of her own guilt long ago, when she had underestimated a certain subject herself.

Back in grade five, when Paul had arrived, he had been the quiet, antisocial boy who'd made it obvious that he wanted nothing to do with his classmates. Everyone left him alone, and for the longest time, no one, including Misty, even paid attention to him.

And then slowly, everyone started taking note of one glaring fact. That being that unlike most of the other boys in class, he didn't really have an interest in sports. Which was fine, except that he clearly favoured art over it, and, in fact, any other school subject.

It was one thing to enjoy art, but to take it as seriously as Paul did, using every bit of free time on it obsessively, almost as if he were planning to do it as his solid profession, it made many of his classmates, mostly boys, start thinking of him as a joke. Art had always just been a fun thing, and yes, there were others who wanted to be artists, but those who made up their specific class, they thought it was a girly or weak subject.

Despite the fact that Paul had never cared about how he was looked down on and simply had continued spending hours and hours just sketching, Misty now felt guilty for being one of those who had looked down on him back then. She'd never said anything to his face, but... she had still _thought_ he was wasting his time. It had been by some twist of fate that she'd ended up at his house one day and stumbled across his room.

And it had been then that she had discovered to what extent his artistic talent could take him, and, unlike the rest of the class, she actually saw the kind of work he did for the very first time. It was like thinking a Pokemon is weak, but then having it defeat you effortlessly during a battle. Respect had budded, and Misty found there was more to Paul than met the eye.

It was some time after that that Misty, who had for so long been friendless because of her temper, ended up finding herself in situations where teaming up or partnering up with Paul was unavoidable, and somewhere along the way, a bond had bloomed.

And even now, Misty couldn't believe she had ever scorned the subject her best friend was so passionate about, and whenever she found someone making the same mistake as her for any subject, she couldn't help but feel it was a blow to his honour (even though he himself probably didn't even care). She just had a strong sense of loyalty to her friends, and could never let it slide.

Even though she only had _one_ friend whose honour she was defending. He still counted.

 _Wait... **one** friend?_ Paul was her _only_ friend in the whole school?

 _Drats! Idiot idiot idiot idiot!_

Misty felt like hitting herself. She felt so stupid for not having realized this sooner. And slowly, her memories of guilt melted and gave way to her current predicament.

How in the world was she supposed to become school president if no one in the school was on friendly terms with her? Students who stood for president always either had many friendly acquaintances, a fan-base, or plenty of charisma that got the school on their side with only a charming smile.

But at the moment, most of the school thought of Misty as terrifying, and the only one who actually was in any way friendly with her was an antisocial jerk who'd made it clear he had no interest in assisting her gain everyone's support, and was more looking forward to seeing her fail. Posters, speeches, and even bribes wouldn't be enough. Of course, it would be easy for her to threaten the school into picking her, but she didn't want to win the elections _that_ way.

Which brought her to her next problem.

Now that she had finally realized how hopeless it all was, she couldn't even back out. She had already told Paul of her intention, and he had _mocked_ her for it. It had become a challenge, and Misty Waterflower simply did not back down from challenges. She had a great deal of pride and stubbornness, and her dignity was on the line. Sure, it was only with Paul, but she knew he would never forget, or let her forget about it.

And now, she was stuck with the impossible task of convincing the majority of the student population to vote for her to become president. Yeah right. They were terrified of her; there was no way they would want to give her even more power over them.

She was so doomed.

* * *

 **So like I said before, I don't know when my next update will be, but I'll try to get it to you guys as soon as possible.**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading! Feedback will be greatly appreciated!**

 **Bye bye for now! Have a great day, and smile all the way! :)**


	3. Help Wanted

**Hello, all readers! I finally bring you... chapter three!  
**

* * *

 _ **Reply to guest reviewers:**_

 _ **guest**_ _ **: Glad you liked it!**_ _ **Oh, and it's not a bother at all! Just need a way to reply to guests! :)  
**_

 _ **chocolate**_ _ **:**_ _**Thanks! Here's the next chapter!**_

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Help Wanted  
**

"Giving up already?"

Misty glared at her friend's question. He asked it so casually, in an 'I knew it all along' tone. He didn't even look up from painting a small clay Pokemon figurine he had made. While Misty loved the artwork he kept displayed in his studio-bedroom, and preferred being there rather than at home with her sisters, one thing she absolutely hated about it was the fact that Paul almost always had his eyes glued to his work, not bothering to even look at her when they were talking, and speaking to her with a touch of arrogance in his voice, as if she were a bore.

Like he was doing right now.

" _No_ ," Misty answered with strong emphasis. "What makes you think that? I'll be making progress soon. It's _only_ been three week since school started." Hopefully, 'soon' didn't come too late. Once today, Friday, and then the weekend was over, she'd have only two more weeks to get everyone on her side, since election day was at the end of the week after next.

"And despite that, you still haven't made one single supporter," Paul said in a bored voice.

"I'm working on it!" Misty insisted hotly. "I'll have a huge crowd of supporters by the end of the month!" She better. Elections were in early October.

"You must be failing miserably."

"No I'm not!"

"You know, it's kind of amusing. Most of the time, you're a rampaging Gyarados, but right now, you're a helpless Magikarp, despairingly floundering around, trying to get somewhere."

" _What was that_?!" Misty hissed dangerously. "I am a perfectly capable person, thank you very much!"

"Then why do you seem so desperate and cranky today? Other than the fact that people think your posters are a joke, and are only listening to your small speeches because they think they'll end up regretting it if they don't."

"I do _not_ seem cranky and desperate! And I'll be making better posters."

"Right. Just keep up the great work and your rival president will look even better in comparison to you. Rudy will be elected in no time."

Misty huffed as she came up with an excuse for her behaviour. "I'm not cranky because of that, not that I think he'll get chosen, since he _so_ won't. It's just that today was an annoying day at school, that's all. You know how I told you that that Ash-kid is my chemistry lab partner?"

"Yeah. You complained for a week about how your teacher stuck you with him."

"He messed up our experiment _again._ I don't know how, but he did something to the chemicals we were mixing so that when he mixed two of them, they blew up. _Blew up_! Seriously, he's going to make me fail chemistry class! Obviously I'm going to be irritated about that!"

"Uh-huh."

"What about you, though?" Misty said, redirecting the conversation to the purple-haired artist. "You've been seeming so stressed lately, not to mention you're obsessing with your artwork. I mean, you didn't even do your math homework for, like, the first time ever! Well, you did manage to finish it before the teacher took it in, but still. I was half expecting the world to stop turning!"

To her surprise, instead of treating her to a snarky comeback like she had expected him to, he sighed tiredly and leaned back in his rolling chair. Still seated, he used his foot to push himself off the wall so that he in his chair rolled over to the side of his bed where Misty was.

"I'm looking for a fairy tale," he informed her in a completely monotone voice.

Misty stared at him in bemusement, trying to make sense of his unlikely response. "...Eh, what?"

"There is this art gallery I'm planning to submit something to," he elaborated. Although it didn't exactly explain his answer.

"You do that all the time, though," Misty pointed out. "Isn't there that art gallery where you're always sending your work to to be sold?"

"Yeah, but _this_ gallery is different. Those other small galleries, they were, well, small. But this gallery, it's the Cerulean Gallery of Arts. There are art-lovers from all over coming to see its displays, some even from other regions. It's nowhere near as big as some galleries in other cities, but still. Normally, they would only accept art of the highest quality, but even if my work got in, no one would pay attention to it since I'm not like a well-known artist or something. But I might just get a chance to sell something there this time."

"And why's that?"

"Some famous artist commented on my work. He saw a submission of mine for a contest, and, apparently, he was impressed. He recommended that I try submitting my work in the Cerulean Gallery for a showcase in April, and he's going to be there too. So if he acknowledges my work in public, I could get it sold for a good price."

"That's all the way in April, and it's still September right now! And how exactly does any of this have to do with fairy tales?"

"Well," Paul said, stretching his arms and folding them behind his head, "from what I've heard, fantasy and fairy tale art is pretty popular among a few particular buyers that come every year. They always want to get their hands on something impressive and unique. I've been coming up with plenty of ideas of what I can do, but none of them seem good enough."

He stopped in slight annoyance when he heard a loud snort of laughter from Misty. She immediately clamped her hand over her mouth to hide her grinning face.

"What?"

"It's just... your face!" Misty laughed. "You seem so serious about all this! I've been thinking something was wrong, but all it is is an artist who doesn't know what to paint!"

"I'm being serious," Paul snapped.

"So basically, it's not the fact that our teachers are burdening up with mounds of homework nor the fact that we've been assigned some huge tests, but the fact that you don't know what to paint that's been stressing you for the past week."

"Yes."

"Really, Paul, relax! You still have lots of time, and I don't know if you've forgotten, but grades are super-important, especially when so close to going to university. You should focus on those more, since if you think too much about your art, you risk failing."

"'Aye, there's the rub'," Paul quoted. "That's the problem. I need to enter contests and submit to galleries to get the money for university, but I need to focus on school as well. Need to find the balance. But I can't if I don't get any ideas for my art projects. I need to think about them too."

"Yeah, I guess that is a bit of a problem. Although really, you seriously need to stop worrying about getting into university," Misty snickered. "But why even do fairy tale and fantasy art in the first place? You're allowed to do other stuff too, right? Why do something you have no inspiration in? And seriously, 'Paul Shinji making a pretty-pretty fairy tale painting' sounds like a creepy, bizarre and absurd sentence. It's not normal."

"Oh, I'll be making plenty of other paintings as well," Paul assured her lazily. "I was just doing a little research and found out that one of Cerulean Gallery's frequent visitors often prefers buying exceptional fairy tale paintings and pays a high price for them. Don't know why she does, but I have a feeling I can come up with something she might like. If only I can get that spark..."

"Seriously? Are you seriously going to try all this just for one customer?"

Paul shrugged. "I might end up not getting to, seeing as my world is filled with dull and uninspiring people who lack the ability to light my brain with ideas."

"Yeah, probably," Misty said, still smirking mercilessly. "Maybe you should just look in some storybook for a princess and do her or something!" Misty paused when she saw the hint of a smirk gracing her friend's lips, and how he was watching her with mocking eyes, all of which made her realize something.

"Wait a minute..." she said slowly. "You said everyone you know is dull and uninspiring."

"So you _were_ listening."

"Excuse me, you insolent jerk, but I somehow get the impression that you were indirectly referring to _me_."

"You know me so well."

"Hey! I am NOT, as you say, 'dull and uninspiring'!"

"So you say. And yet, you fail to make anyone feel you would make an influential school president."

"Why you! I'll prove you wrong, you'll see! _When_ I become president, everyone will look up to me! And I bet I would even inspire you for that painting you want to do!"

"Yeah. There is no way."

" _WHAT_?!" Misty stood up, outraged.

"Just what I said." Paul fearlessly turned to face her with a bored look while she began to resemble a ticking time bomb. "If I am ever forced to paint you with the theme 'fairy tale', the spectators will all think you are the evil witch of the story."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Well, look at you. You have zero ladylike qualities, could easily be mistaken for a rampaging Gyarados, and not to mention that you ditched your sweet, dainty real name for the uncouth nickname of 'Misty'."

"You are walking a very dangerous path, Shinji."

"Oh, right, you really hate your name, don't you?"

"I'm warning you..."

Paul smirked, watching her infuriated face turn as red as a Tomata berry in ire. "You know," he said calmly, "maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you _can_ be a princess."

Misty's eyes narrowed. What was he doing now?

"I'd say you'd be someone like... Cinderella."

" _Cinderella_?!"

"Yes, that's what I said."

"How the heck is Cinderella anything like me?!"

"Easy. Everyone calls her by a name that isn't really her real one—you know, how they started calling her 'Cinderella' because of the fact that she was always by the fire cinders. And she is always so dramatic, since the poor unfortunate girl is bullied by her _mean_ older sisters, and all she does is cry about how miserable her life is until her prince finds her glass slipper and whisks her helpless little self away to his castle, where she is pampered and attended to to her heart's content. The only difference is that your prince is probably too terrified to search for you using the glass slipper he found."

"Why you little—! I am definitely not like Cinderella, you jerk! And I think you're getting some details wrong. Cinderella did not cry or was dramatic or anything, so even if you say I'm like her, it does not mean I do anything of the sort! And just because I've got annoying older sisters, doesn't mean I'll bend to their will like Cinderella did! And under the impossible circumstance that I do end up wanting to be rescued by a prince, but he doesn't show up, I would track him down myself instead of waiting around for that useless pretty-boy!"

"You'd probably give him a good punch to the face or a whack with a mallet for ignoring you."

"Exactly! And—" Misty paused mid-sentence. Paul was giving her that look again. That look when he was messing with her on purpose just to see her lose her temper and begin what he saw as entertaining rants. Well, she was not about to give him to satisfaction of winning against her again!

"Hmph!" Misty turned around and folded her arms. "You know what? I'm not going to even talk to you!" she declared childishly.

"Just curious, but why would this even bother you?" Paul said, not sounding curious or like he really cared at all. "I mean, you never want to be seen as a girly-girl princess, so it shouldn't make a difference."

"Well, it's because you're acting as if I can't be a good princess figure if I tried. Of course I can be! I just _choose_ not to, since it's not the kind of person I am."

"I thought you weren't talking to me."

"Oh, shut up," Misty snarled. She wracked her brain for something to say that would put her arrogant friend in his place. "I'm just saying that if a _real_ artist were to paint me, he'd be able to make me look like a _great_ princess."

"And you'd let him? Like you yourself said, a princess-type person wouldn't suit you in the least."

"Of course I would! A _real_ artist could make me as a princess AND show my true personality in a perfectly balanced way! And I'd let him sell it in an art gallery, and it would probably sell for a high price and become famous!"

"Sure it would, Misty," Paul said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Sure it would."

"Gah! I feel like strangling you right now!"

"And I feel like watching you try."

"That. Is. It! You are going to regret that Pau—!"

"Wait," Paul interrupted suddenly, raising a hand to silence her (which she ignored) and looking toward the door. His eyes narrowed.

"Is there anything you want, Reggie?" he said acidly.

Confused, Misty turned to see that the door was open a crack. Once Paul completed his words, the door opened fully, revealing Paul's older brother standing in the doorway feigning guiltlessness.

"No," Reggie said innocently. "Just was going to ask you to come down for dinner."

"Later," Paul said dismissively. "I have work to do."

"What, painting a princess?" Misty said, mockery in her voice.

"Get out," Paul yawned in response.

Misty huffed, wanting to argue just for the sake of arguing, but ultimately deciding against it when she realized it was getting late, and she really did need to get going. After all, she had to make sure she was fully prepared to continue with her campaigning for Monday.

"Fine," she yielded, heading out the door. "I'll show you how much progress I can make."

The second she stepped out, Paul's bedroom door slammed closed behind her, causing her to jump a mile. She hadn't even heard him get up and walk up to the door behind her.

"That jerk," she mumbled to herself. Her eyes suddenly landed on Reggie, who was still standing there, chuckling lightly to himself. "What?" she snapped.

"Well," he said calmly, his smile still lingering at his lips. "You two just seem to fight a lot, don't you?"

"Yeah, well, what else can you expect when Paul's being a jerk. What's your point?"

"Nothing. It's just funny."

Misty rolled her eyes. "And you just stand around the door watching us like a spectator."

"Occasionally."

"And your reasoning behind that is because it's _funny_."

"Admit it, Misty. It _is_ pretty funny."

Misty rolled her eyes again, but she couldn't hold back a small amused smile from her lips. She began going down the stairs to the front door, with Reggie following behind. "You know, I should head back. Later."

"See you next time you come to squabble with my brother!" Reggie joked after her as she left the house.

Misty waved back to him and began heading down the sidewalk. She would have to take the bus back to her neighbourhood. Ever since Ash had ruined her bike, getting around was turning into quite a bothersome task. Riding her bike used to be the quickest way to go, but not anymore.

The walk to the bus stop was long and tiring. Misty wondered why she had come over to Paul's in the first place, since all they had ended up doing was taking jibes at each other like they usually did.

 _To get away from my sisters,_ Misty remembered. _I wanted to get away from my sisters. Those three are unbearable!_

And the three of them, Daisy, Violet and Lily, had been especially unbearable these last few days. Nosy Lily had caught Misty printing out some posters saying to vote for Misty for student council president, and she had found it absolutely hysterical. She had gone and blathered about it to Violet and Daisy, and then the three of them had all had a good laugh.

In their eyes, Misty was a nobody. She wasn't pretty like them, nor did she aim to be a famous performer or dancer like they were. Not to mention her attitude was, well, less that satisfactory. There was no way she could be president.

She would prove them wrong, she thought angrily. All of them! Her sisters underestimated her all the time, so now it was finally time to show them that she could actually _be somebody._

And then there was Paul and his teasing. She knew it was never actually hurtful, but it felt like a challenge. He just loved pointing out the fact that she had zero support with her goal, didn't he? Well, she would get support! She would show him she wasn't helpless Cinderella like he had accused her of being. No, she wouldn't wait around for a prince to find a glass slipper and come to fix her problems. She would do it herself! She would get out there, and get the whole school at her side!

* * *

Misty stubbornly kept her determined thoughts in her head all weekend. She even managed to hold onto them on Monday and kept her spirit high throughout the morning classes.

When lunchtime came, she sat at an empty cafeteria table by herself (as she had no idea where Paul was at the moment). She finished up her lunch as quickly as she could, and then pulled out a stack of posters from a file.

They were nice posters. At least nicer than her previous ones. She secretly wished Paul would help her out by using his artsy magic on them, but that was out of the question. She just had too much pride. For now, these will have to do.

She was straightening out the stack when the sound of a tray being placed on the table caught the attention.

"There you are, Paul," she said, looking up. "I was wondering where—"

She froze mid-sentence. It wasn't Paul. Nope, not him at all.

Instead, a girl with brown hair and blue eyes with an insanely large amount of food on her lunch tray had sat herself down in the seat opposite of her. She did nothing to acknowledge Misty, instead jabbing a fork at a bowl of noodles, lifting the noodles to her mouth.

"Um, can I help you?" Misty asked, raising an eyebrow. No one ever dared sitting at the same table as her except Paul. Not that Misty really minded that, but it had made her very used to expecting her empty table to stay empty.

"Hm?" the girl looked up at her, as if only just realizing she was there. "O-oh, sorry! Hi, I'm May!"

May. As in May Maple. Everyone knew about May and her best friend Brianna. They were two inseparable grade eleven girls, so a grade lower than Misty. It wasn't that those two were popular or anything; they just could be seen everywhere together. Almost as if they had been stuck to each other's side since eternity.

So why was May sitting here alone? Where was Brianna? Sick, maybe?

Misty's unspoken questions were answered when she saw May's eyes flicker somewhere and back. It was quick, and May probably hadn't known she'd noticed, but Misty had, nevertheless.

Curiously, she glanced in the direction May had.

It was the so-called 'popular girls' table'. Melody and Giselle were in Misty's grade, and both were at the height of popularity, while Ursula had joined their little group about two years ago, despite her being a grade lower than them. But Misty was surprised to see another girl had joined them today.

Brianna, the sweet girl who'd always been practically attached to May, was now seated beside Ursula, smiling, but looking the slightest bit nervous and hesitant, as if worried about impressing them. Why she would suddenly decide to hang out with them was anyone's guess, as those three had been known for being quite... unpleasant on numerous occasions, but it appeared that that was the reason May had decided to find a new table.

"Don't mind me! I'm just gonna eat here, since all the other tables are full," May chirped cheerfully as she recommenced her gobbling of noodles.

"Whatever," Misty said, getting up. "I was about to leave anyways."

She may have imagined it, but May looked the tiniest bit crestfallen as she said that, as if she had wanted her to say.

Probably her imagination. But May's next words made her think twice.

"Okay!" she said a little loudly. "I'll see you tomorrow, then! You know, since we're _buddies_ and all!" There was strong emphasis on 'buddies'.

Misty couldn't help but feel annoyed. How were they buddies? They had never even communicated before now! A glimpse of Brianna casting a quick glance at them was proof that May was only doing this to make her friend feel jealous.

Whatever this was about, it really didn't have anything to do with Misty, and the orange-haired girl found herself getting up and leaving. She needed to start hanging up her new posters now. There was truth in what Paul had said, about most students thinking her posters were a joke, and Misty often found them destroyed or removed, resulting in her having to do this multiple times.

She glared at the other posters hanging around the walls. Particularly at the ones saying 'Support Rudy!'.

There were several students aiming to be school council president, but the only one who seemed to actually have a chance was Rudy. He was popular, charming, and could quickly get most of the school on his side. Misty often saw other students, like some grade eleven girls who went by the name of Dawn and Serena, putting up some posters for him.

It bothered her. He somehow did seem like someone who might be good for the school, but at the same time, she had her doubts. Almost everyone was voting for him because he was popular, not because of anything he said, so did they truly think he was the rightful president? If he weren't, then they might just get the same, unproductive result as last year.

Misty determinedly stuck another poster to the wall.

She wouldn't let that happen! Rudy would not be elected; she would. It'd be difficult, but she was going to have to make sure she was. For the sake of the school.

She tried to keep this thought plastered in her mind, but as the day progressed, it was getting harder and harder to. Everyone was acknowledging Rudy, but no one was even taking note of her efforts. It was just...

"Pst!" Misty snapped out of her thoughts. She was in chemistry class now, and the teacher was explaining something she couldn't concentrate on, but it was Ash Ketchum, who was in the desk right next to her, who had caught her attention.

"Hey, Misty!" he whispered again. She raised an eyebrow at him. He stole a glance at the teacher to make sure they weren't being watched before discreetly passing Misty a note. No one ever passed her notes in class. Not even Paul. So why in the world did Ash suddenly decide to? It wasn't like they were friends or anything. The only relation they had was him being both the destroyer of her bike and the devastator of her lab experiments. Perplexed, she took it, and opened it up.

 _Hey, I've been noticing that you're trying to be president. Things not going well? -Ash_

Misty hastily scribbled a reply.

 _Things are just fine, thank you very much! -Misty_

 _I'm not too sure. Hey, I think I know how I can help you out. -Ash_

 _Huh? Why would you wanna help me? -Misty_

 _Just meet me after school by that big oak tree in the back field. Don't forget! -Ash_

 _But why—_

Misty wasn't able to send her note back, because at that moment, the teacher began walking around, handing out pop quizzes to everyone's dismay.

* * *

Where in the world was Ash Ketchum?

Misty couldn't help but be irritated. Hadn't he been the one to tell her to meet with him? So where was he? She could hear Paul's smug voice from earlier when she had told him that she had to meet with someone about her president-thing.

 _"Cinderella through and through."_

 _"What's that supposed to mean?!"_

 _"The guy you're meeting with is your prince who's going to try to take away all your troubles, isn't he?"_

 _"WHAT?! I never said it was a guy!"_

 _"But he is, isn't he?"_

 _"...That doesn't have anything to do with it!"_

 _"Sure. Just keep telling yourself that."_

 _"Why you—!"_

Not that she liked Paul thinking of her as getting help from a prince, but just what he would say if he figured out the so-called 'prince' hadn't even shown up was sure to humiliate her even further.

"Hey Misty!"

"It's about time!" Misty screeched when Ash finally came jogging up to her, causing the latter to flinch. "I've been waiting a full twenty minutes! The only reason I even stayed was because I knew you're a forgetful bonehead who probably forgot he was supposed to meet me and might possibly remember again soon!"

"I didn't forget!" Ash protested. "It just took longer than I expected!"

"Just _what_ 'took longer than you expected'? Walking out the door and coming to this tree?"

"No, getting Gary's confiscated cell phone."

Misty stared. "...What?"

"I'm shocked as well," a familiar, cocky voice suddenly spoke up, and Misty turned to the speaker. She hadn't noticed him before, since she'd been focused on Ash, but a certain spiky-haired boy was smirking, standing behind him.

The one and only Gary Oak.

"It normally takes him only five minutes," Gary said. "But this time, it took over fifteen. What's the matter, Ashy? Your manipulation skills have gone downhill since I last saw you."

Misty's stare didn't cease. "...What?"

"I only did that 'cause you said you wouldn't come if I didn't get your phone first!" Ash argued. "And the teachers don't know me that well yet, so I couldn't convince them that well."

"Whatever. Next time, do better, 'kay?"

"There won't be a next time, Gary! I only did it for Misty's sake, not yours. It's your own fault for using it in class."

"My mistake was not using it in class, but getting caught with it. You know, since everybody uses their cell whenever they want. No one cares about the no-phone rule."

"Yeah, well—"

" _Guys_!" Misty spoke up, getting their attention. " _What_ is going on?"

"I was trying to get Gary to come, but even though he said he would, he suddenly changed his mind and said he would only come if I got his cell phone back from a teacher for him, since it got confiscated, and—"

"Yeah, yeah, I got that much from your guys' fighting," Misty interrupted Ash's explanation. "But why in the world is Gary here in the first place? And 'manipulative' and 'Ash' do not go in the same sentence."

"Oh, Ash has got to be the most devious guy you could meet," Gary said airily. "He can talk himself out of anything. Best guy to be with if you need bailing-out."

"I'm not going to be having your back all the time anymore, Gary," Ash grumbled.

"B-but... _Ash_ is manipulative?" Misty's mind just couldn't grasp that concept. "In the three weeks I've known you, I've discovered that you, Ash Ketchum, are the most thickheaded person I know. You do not even understand sarcasm! Not to mention you mess up everything you touch. Just how many times have you blown up our lab experiments, huh?"

"I think three," Ash answered reflectively.

"Oh, forget it," Misty mumbled. She turned to Gary. "And what about you? Ash mentioned you guys don't get along! So what's with this buddy-buddy attitude all of a sudden? And why in the world did Ash drag you along here? What in the world does any of this have to do with me being president?!"

"To your first question, yes, we never get along," Gary said.

"Nope, never," Ash confirmed. "But we can still be sort of buddies, right? I mean, yeah, when we were little, Gary used to be bossy, and always ended up getting us into trouble, but even after he moved away, we still kept in touch and all."

"Sure, Ash, sure," Gary yawned.

"So you guys are sort of like, frenemies," Misty said, more to herself that them.

"To your second question, Ash got me to waste valuable time of my life by coming here because he said you were having some trouble with your president campaigning," Gary continued. "And third, this has to do with you being president because I, having the influence I have on this school, can assist you in your failing endeavour."

"I am doing perfectly fine," Misty said insistently.

"I'm guessing your definition of 'fine' is 'trying my best, but knowing it's hopeless.'"

"I don't need your help."

"No matter what you say, Carrot-head, you do. You _so_ do." Gary smirked at Misty's fuming face. It looked like she was about to retort, but then paused, narrowing her eyes suspiciously instead.

"Wait," she said slowly, "supposing by some miracle I agree to let you help me, what's the catch? You wouldn't be doing this 'out of the goodness of your heart.' There must be a reason. You want something from me."

"Someone is a sharp woman." Gary grinned. "Fine, then. The reason I'd rather have you president over Rudy is very simple. Rudy wants to be president. I'm running for vice-president. When we both win—since I practically have already won and Rudy is the only one who'd win undoubtedly—we would be on the same council. We would have to cooperate. I do not like Rudy, and therefore cooperation is out of the question. So making sure he isn't voted for solves this problem."

Misty wasn't convinced that was the only reason. "I know you wouldn't let go of this kind of chance where you can have someone else in your debt. You're going to ask something of me too, aren't you?"

"Naturally."

"Well? What is it?"

"I want you to do a small favour for me."

* * *

 **And just what that favour is, you'll have to wait to find out!  
**

 **I want to say sorry it took so long for me to update, but I've been really busy these days. And I'm going to continue being busy, especially with school about to start in about a week. So while I really wish I could get you guys frequent updates, the fact remains that, well, I can't. I'll still try, though!**

 **Thanks for reading! I appreciate all comments and critiques!**

 **Bye bye for now! Have a great day, and smile all the way! :)**


	4. Politics

**Hello, everyone!**

 **Finally! I have finally succeeded in finishing this chapter! Barely had time to write, but a little every day works.**

 **So here it is, and I hope you all enjoy!  
**

* * *

 _ **Reply to guests:  
**_

 _ **Guest**_ _ **: I guess I'm making the personalities a bit confusing, aren't I? I hope I can clear that out with more chapters. And thanks for the review!**_

 _ **love it**_ _ **: Thanks so much! I'm glad you love it!**_

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Politics  
**

Misty walked slowly and steadily as she headed for school the next day. Gary had told her to be there as early as possibly, but she couldn't help but feel cautious. Besides, she had plenty to think about as she walked.

 _What is Gary planning to do? Why is he so convinced it'll actually work? What if it's all just a huge prank, and he's out to humiliate me since he thinks I'm a joke too?_

And finally...

 _Who the heck is Leaf Green?_

That had been Gary's favour. In exchange for his help, he wanted Misty to track down a girl who went to the same school as them, and pretty much give him a report about where she disappeared off to every day after school and at lunch break. According to him, she actually stayed within the school building during those times, but he had no idea where.

* * *

 **(Flashback)**

 _"Stalker,"_ _Misty said._

" _ **No**!" Gary looked indignant. "There's actually a whole story behind it, but that's not really any of your business."_

 _"Well, thanks, but no thanks. I don't want to do any stalking—oh sorry—I mean, **spying** for you. Do it yourself, if you're so desperate."_

 _"You're the desperate one here, actually. You really are going to fail being president if you don't have someone like me take the reigns."_

 _"Well, excuse **me** , but I am NOT failing, and I am definitely not going to play 'damsel in distress' while you do all the work! I can do it myself!"_

 _"Misty, Misty, Misty. I don't think you get it. You are not leaving everything to someone else while you act all helpless. No, unlike most girls, you're actually doing something yourself. This is business, Little Miss Red, not a free way out. I'm getting something from you in return, aren't I? Like all businessmen, or should I say, businesswomen, you have a job that needs to be done, but as you have no means of doing it yourself, you're hiring others to do it for you. See? You're the one running the show!"_

 _"You really want me to do your favour, don't you?"_

 _"Hey, it'll be easy on me if you do it. She wouldn't suspect anything from you, but if I do it myself, she'd know I am, and avoid me like she always does."_

 _"She's avoiding you? And now you want **me** to harass this poor Leaf-girl for you since you can't do it yourself?!"_

 _"No, that's not what I meant! Like I said, there's a story behind it—"_

 _"Doesn't matter. I'm not doing it. This girl doesn't want to be near you, and you still won't stop bothering her? Yeah, I am so not going to help you with this. In fact, if I ever do see this Leaf, I would warn her whenever you're around!"_

 _"But—"_

 _"Misty, I actually don't think it's like that," Ash cut in. "I think... this has to do with a challenge or something they made."_

 _"Huh? What challenge?"_

 _"Oh, there was this time long ago back in Pallet Town—"_

 _"Wait, she's from Pallet Town too?"_

 _"Yeah, she is. So like I was saying, they once got into a fight, and Leaf began giving him the silent treatment. It would have probably would been over in a day or two, but she was so persistent, and Gary kept trying to get her to slip up and talk to him. And then he made this joke asking her if she planned to keep this up until they graduated, or something like that. And she took it seriously! And trust me, you challenge her, she doesn't back down! We were in, I think, grade six back then, and about a few months afterwards—yep, she didn't talk to him for months—her family moved to Cerulean City. So Gary couldn't even try to win!"  
_

 _"So pretty much you've been trying to get her to talk to you, but she's been avoiding you so she wouldn't slip up," Misty said, understanding what was going on. "Wow, did you seriously move all the way here just to do that?"_

 _"No, of course not," Gary said, rolling his eyes. "The only reason I managed to get here was because Gramps was coming here to do a few years of research on the Pokemon of Cerulean Cave, so I asked if I could come along. It was a coincidence. And so, since I was heading for grade nine at the time, I started going to Cerulean High, and what do you know? Leaf turns out to be there too! Heh. Made my job easier, or so I thought._

 _"But that girl, she could be in the same class as you, sitting right beside you, and you wouldn't know it if she didn't want you to. Trust me, I know. She has a few classes with me, and the only reason I know she does is because I glimpse her occasionally leaving the classroom before I do. Even when I'm constantly looking around, I can't locate her within the same classroom! That sneaky girl..."_

 _"Well, that might explain a few things," Misty said. "Like how the heck Leaf and I have been going to the same school since grade nine and I have no clue who she is."_

 _"She likes lying low. But you must have seen her at some point, at least. Long brown hair, green eyes, usually with a book?"_

 _"That description could fit anyone, and do you really think I'm the kind of girl who takes note of people's hair and eyes? How am I supposed to find her if I have no idea who she is?"_

 _"I don't know, just ask around or something. You'll find her eventually."_

 _Misty crossed her arms._

 _"But getting back on track, would you do it, then?" Gary said, smirking. "So, would you find Leaf for me if I help you out with your campaigning? Do we have a deal?"_

 **(End of flashback)**

* * *

Misty had no idea what had possessed her and made her agree. At first she had continued refusing, not because she was one hundred percent against getting help from Gary (it was quite tempting, actually), but because spying on someone she hadn't even seen before in her life simply seemed stalker-ish and plain wrong.

But then something in her gave in. One of the rare times her stubborn brain actually got the message for once:

 _You are going to fail miserably if someone like popular Gary doesn't promote you. And losing the elections means being humiliated, as people will laugh at you for even trying. Daisy, Violet and Lily, and even Paul included._

And so, very begrudgingly, Misty had made the deal, only to find that Gary refused to tell her what his plan exactly was, no matter how much she asked. And then he had just left, telling her to be at school as early as possible.

Misty sighed as she continued walking. She had now entered the school grounds, and was standing in front of the front door to the building.

Should she go in? What was Gary planning? He couldn't have been lying about helping her, right? After all, he really seemed to want to find Leaf, and even Ash had been confident Gary would help her out. And Ash simply wasn't the kind who would lie, or go so far to pull a joke on her. Especially such a cruel one.

But then again, Gary had said Ash was very manipulative. Misty still couldn't get her mind wrapped around that idea, though. He had done absolutely nothing to support that theory. Well, at least in her eyes. Gary had known Ash much longer than she had, so maybe he knew a different side to him. But really, it seemed more like Gary was the one doing the manipulating.

"Are you going in, or do you want to stand there admiring the door for a bit longer?" a voice drawled behind her.

Misty spun around, coming face-to-face with the grey-eyed, dirty-blond-haired boy behind her. She recognized him as a boy from grade eleven, Trip.

Normally, Misty would apologize for blocking the doorway, but the way Trip was watching her with a look of pure arrogance, and how his voice was laced with rudeness and condescension lit the flare of her temper.

"Well, excuse _me_ ," Misty shot back, hands on her hips. "You _could_ show a bit more respect to your seniors."

"I could," he said with a shrug. "But you're another story. I'm sorry, but I _really_ find it difficult to pretend that the likes of you is superior to me in any way."

"Oh, you are _so_ asking for it!" Misty hissed, getting right up to his face. It appeared, though, that unlike most of the school, he actually wasn't afraid of her, as he didn't even flinch.

"Asking for what?" he said, smirking innocently. "Your apology for blocking my way? Of course I am."

"Why you—!"

"Trip, what are you doing?" Another voice joined them, causing both Misty and Trip to turn to the speaker.

It was a girl with disinterested green eyes, and long brown hair, and she had a few books held within her arms. She was someone Misty recognized, but only because she often saw her with her nose glued into a book in the school library. Other than that, Misty knew absolutely nothing else about her.

"Oh, hey Green," Trip said, addressing the girl in his bored, drawling voice.

"Trip stop fooling around and get to class," she said. "Oh, and by the way..." She shoved one of the books she was holding at him, which he quickly took from her grasp.

"Page 205," she said to him in undertone as she passed both Trip and Misty, heading into the school building.

"Huh. Let's see, 205..." Trip muttered as he opened the book, flipping it to the right page while walking through the doors as well, clearly forgetting about the ginger-head he had been fighting with just a moment ago.

Misty blinked confusedly.

 _Okay then..._

Finally, she too decided it was best to head to class as well, and she entered her school and quickly located her locker. As she began taking her stuff from it, she suddenly remembered why she had been dreading coming to school when Gary Oak's loud, obnoxious voice echoed through the halls.

"Hello, fellow students!" his voice rang loud and clear. "Everyone having a good morning? No? Well, that is expected, as it _is_ a school day."

Misty jerked her head around to see what was going on. And sure enough, Gary could be seen standing there, smirking, holding a microphone as he stood in the middle of the hallway. Ash was accompanying him, though all he was doing was holding up a large poster that said 'Gary for Vice President' on it. A crowd slowly began forming around the two as many stopped what they were doing to see what all this was about.

"Elections coming up soon, huh?" Gary continued. "You all know I'm aiming to be vice president, right? And, of course, I'm sure it's right for me to be confident I will get the most votes. You're all voting for me, right? Who's voting for me?"

He raised his fist in the air triumphantly as the crowd (mostly his fans) answered enthusiastically in the affirmative.

"I can't hear you!" Gary yelled out. "Who's voting for me?"

The crowd's roar was deafening this time. Misty wondered why no teachers had shown up yet.

"Hey, awesome guys! Now as you know, becoming vice president means working together with the rest of student council. That includes all of the class representatives, the secretary, and, most importantly, the president."

Gary stopped at this part, choosing to dramatically look over the watching crowd.

"The president," he repeated. "Now, the president is the most important figure of all, because he or she has to be the one who has the final word on all decisions made. And that means, the president has to be someone who can cooperate with the rest of the student council for maximum benefits.

"So this year, I'm sure we all want someone who can work well with everyone else in the council. So who's going to be president? Let's see... Ah-hah! From my careful investigating, there is one person who I discovered has a high chance of winning. And his name," Gary said, gesturing to Ash, who pulled out a different poster and raised it high to show everyone the word written on it, "is Rudy."

The crowd cheered, as Rudy was clearly popular, and Misty felt her face heat up in fury. Hadn't Gary promised to promote her and _not_ Rudy? Was this all a joke?

"Yes, yes, we all love Rudy," Gary continued when the crowd's screams died down. "Well, most of us do, anyways. The truth is, well... It's kind of hard for me to break it to you, but Rudy just isn't cut out to be president."

There was a silence, everyone regarding Gary curiously as the words flowed from his mouth. They were evidently wondering why the most popular choice for vice president was suddenly saying the most popular choice for president was, in fact, not a good option. They all watched him with puzzled eyes, waiting for his elaboration.

"It's a sad truth," Gary continued, feigning sorrow."I myself find it hard to believe. It appears he certainly is really popular, but as president, according to my careful analysis, it's just... not going to work."

 _He's a pretty good actor, actually,_ Misty thought to herself. His crestfallen behaviour was very convincing.

"And I'll tell you why," Gary said, beginning his explanation. "First, tell me: what exactly has Rudy promised all of you? Anyone?"

At first, it didn't look like anyone had an answer, not even Rudy's own fans. Misty found it unsurprising, as, after all, he was being voted based on popularity, so not many had paid attention to what he had promised. But then someone did speak up. A girl known as Dawn Berlitz, the chic, stylish fashionista from grade eleven.

She was someone literally everyone knew. Nobody could miss this bubbly, sweet girl. She was so social, she had talked to pretty much everyone in the school at least once. And if she hadn't, then she still most likely knew about them anyways, and they most likely knew about her.

"He promised us plenty of things," Dawn said determinedly. "New water fountains, better lockers to replace these old rusty ones, plenty of bake sales and events to raise money for different organizations, the list is endless!"

"And do you _really_ think he's _actually_ going to be able to get all that done?"

"Of course he will! He's—"

"Dawnie, Dawnie, Dawnie, he's just doing that to impress fangirls like you."

" _WHAT_?! For your information, _Oak_ , I don't support him because I'm a fan; I support him because I'm his _friend_! I know him as a person, and—"

The rest of Dawn's words were cut off, as Gary had placed his hand gently but firmly over her mouth, tsk-tsking like an adult disappointed at a misguided child.

"Dawn, you don't get it. I've seen it every year: popular guy impresses fans with promises, gets the votes over the actual hardworking people, becomes president, and ends up not fulfilling any of his promises at all."

Dawn's eyes glared at him, practically screaming, 'You're one to talk!' And Misty knew that the only reason so many were blind to the fact that Gary himself was possibly being a hypocrite was due to the crowd being mostly comprised of his own fans.

"Now, what I want is a person, someone _worthy_ of the president role, to get a chance. Because out of all the candidates, according to my investigation, there is _one_ person who I think is serious about this job, about making sure this school gets the best of the best."

Misty suddenly began to feel her heart thumping. Was he talking about her? Was he going to bring her up now, and ask everyone to give her his or her vote? What if everyone laughed and thought Gary was just kidding around like he always did? Then that would only lead to humiliation. But it was too late now. No turning back. Whatever Gary was doing, it better work! His own well-being depended on it, because there was no way Misty wasn't going to get revenge if it ended in total failure!

"And who is this person, you ask? Well, it may be hard to believe. I, too, was shocked at my own discovery. 'How could it be?' I asked myself. 'How?' But, alas, it's true, and I need to support this person. For the sake of the school."

"Who is it?" someone called out, followed by a bunch of more curious calls.

"It is..." Gary said, pausing dramatically as he looked around. He didn't lift his hand from Dawn's mouth, but had the audacity to challengingly look directly at her furious eyes before he answered with two words, which combined to form the name everyone had been waiting to hear.

"Misty Waterflower."

Murmurs broke out instantly as Ash switched the poster he was holding up for one that said, 'Vote Misty Waterflower for President!'

"Misty Waterflower?!"

"The girl with the anger issues?"

"Is he serious?"

"He's kidding, right? Tell me he's kidding."

"He can't possibly expect me to vote for _her_!"

"How did she get him to support her?"

"Bribes, maybe?"

"I'm guessing blackmail."

And, to her horror, Misty began feeling eyes land on her. She felt herself heat up, and hoped she didn't look too red. The stares weren't friendly. They were almost angry. And Misty wanted to get out of there. She wanted to get out of there _now_.

Her eyes made contact with Dawn's. The blue-haired girl may have been the sweetest, nicest of them all, but everyone knew you weren't to get on her bad side. Do that, and you could find yourself at the receiving end of the biggest, most persistent grudge known to humankind. And the way she was looking at her right now, with narrowed eyes, full of suspicion and something akin to anger, Misty felt she wouldn't be surprised if she started a rally against her.

"People, people," Gary said, finally stepping away from Dawn, who said nothing despite no longer having a hand clamped over her mouth (most likely because she was curious about Gary's reasoning). "Now, I know all of you are wondering, 'Why Misty? Why her of all people?' Well, it's like this.

"We all know how tough she is, right? How stubborn. When she gets her mind set on something, she doesn't quit until it's done! Now don't you think that's what we want in a president? Someone who's tough enough to handle the pressure? Someone who doesn't go back on what she plans to do and makes sure she gets it done? Someone who isn't afraid to get her ideas out there, no matter how impossible they seem? I mean, she's already doing that kind of stuff! She knew Rudy was more likely to get the votes instead of her, but she still hasn't given up. Because she knows what she can offer the school is much better that what any popular pretty-boy can give.

"And... she's being overlooked. Despite her trying so hard for the sake of making this year a better year, she's being overlooked. And why? Because there is a boy out there, bribing you with his looks and fake charms. Anyways, if it's that what you like about Rudy, his looks and all, wouldn't it be more logical to _not_ vote for him? Being president would mean he wouldn't have free time for anything, and you'd be seeing him less and less, with all the student council meetings he'd have to attend. Meetings he won't even take seriously.

"Just thought I'd put that out there. So keep it in mind," Gary concluded. He grinned, winking at the crowd, and sending them a small wave. "Later, everyone!"

* * *

"What the heck was that all about?" Misty shrieked as her fist tightened around Gary's front collar.

"Whoa, chill! What's wrong with you?" Gary said, trying to act as if he didn't really care, but looking surprised all the same.

"Come on, Misty, let him go," Ash tried to say. "What did he do?"

It was lunchtime now. While Misty hadn't had the chance to speak to Gary for the first hours of the morning, she had been able to do a lot of thinking about that speech Gary had made, promoting her for president. No matter how many times she tried to justify that he had made some great points about her, some things she hadn't realized herself, there was still one thing that had been bothering her, and the more Misty didn't get a chance to question Gary about it, the more the frustration built up.

Until she erupted.

She literally tracked down Gary, dragged him with her into an empty hallway (with Ash following behind, wondering what was wrong with Misty), and began letting it all out.

"What he did," Misty hissed, "was that he made up stuff about Rudy, practically ruining his reputation! Rudy might have actually been serious about it all, but you made him look like a fake! Like a slacker only doing it for popularity! I wanted you to promote me, not ruin him!"

"I don't see what you're so worked up about," Gary said. "He's the enemy, isn't he? That's how the elections work. Make yourself look good, and the opposition look bad."

"But I don't want to make the opposition look like rubbish! I don't want to go around _lying_!"

"Gary said that's what you do in politics," Ash interjected, causing Misty to redirect her glare at him. He cautiously stepped back.

"And you!" Misty began yelling at her next target. "I never thought _you_ 'd agree to something like this, Ash! What in the world made you go along with it?"

"Well, Gary said—"

"I don't care what Gary said! Seriously, yesterday he was saying that you're manipulative, but I think he meant he was the one manipulating you! Do you seriously believe everything he says? Do you not understand the concept of lying?"

"Hey, I don't lie _that_ much," Gary protested. "Just as needed."

"You be quiet!" Misty snarled.

"Misty, I was just helping him out," Ash tried to explain. "And I don't let Gary push me around to do stuff for him anymore. He just said that if I do certain things to help him out, it'll help you."

"This is exactly what I mean! He brainwashes you into thinking that you'll achieve your own goals by doing what he says, when really, he's just taking advantage of you. And why in the world are you so set on helping me out in the first place?!"

Ash gave her a blank look as if he were surprised she didn't know the answer to that. And it only annoyed her even more.

"Well, because we're friends," he answered, catching Misty completely off guard.

Friends? How in the world were they friends? She tried to think back to any specific moment that would be an example of their friendship, but found none. All she had ever done to him was yell at him and threaten him for ruining every one of their chemistry lab experiments.

"When did that happen?" Misty blurted out, bewildered.

"What?" Ash cocked his head confusedly.

"There was never a single time that indicated us magically becoming 'friends'... Unless," — Misty narrowed her eyes — "you're just doing all this to get on my good side so I won't kill you one day for ruining my bike. Oh, I won't forget about that, Ketchum! You still owe—"

"ACHOO!" Ash made what was undeniably a wild and failed attempt at sneezing to interrupt her sentence. "Must be allergic to something around here. Oh, look at the time! Gotta go have lunch. See ya!"

"Ash Ketchum!" Misty yelled as Ash darted off around the corner without delay. Misty, realizing that he had escaped, could do nothing but grit her teeth.

"Soooo, can I go now?"

Misty glared at Gary, who was clearly wondering when Misty would release her grip on his shirt collar.

" _No_ ," Misty said irritatedly. "Look, sure I wanted you to promote me, but I never wanted you to do that by dissing Rudy! I don't know why you don't like him, but even though he's pretty popular, he's always seemed respectful enough to me. I've got nothing against him. And you just had to—"

"Misty, I didn't ruin his reputation," Gary drawled. "You really gotta think about it. All I did was make you look like the better choice to vote for. It's not going to make him any less popular, trust me. People don't care whether he gets voted or not, as long as he continues looking like the pretty-boy he is."

"Yeah, but—"

"It's politics, Misty. Deal with it. And besides, you can't really pin me as being the dishonest one here." He smirked. "Weren't _you_ the one bribing me to do this in the first place? I wouldn't have given you a hand if you hadn't agreed to doing my favour."

Misty sighed, finally letting go of his collar and folding her arms. She really couldn't argue with him there. It was her own fault, after all. Besides, her anger had tired her out, and she was slowly cooling down.

"Speaking of which," said Gary rather triumphantly, "you still have to find Leaf for me. I'd like you to get started as soon as possible, maybe even today, if you don't mind."

"Actually," Misty said, leaning against the wall, "I don't have to go Leaf-hunting just yet."

"Um, yes you do." Gary raised an eyebrow questioningly. "It was part of the deal. I help you, you find Leaf."

"Exactly." Misty stood up straight, facing him. "I only find Leaf _if_ you help me. However, there is no proof that your little speech was any help at all. If I don't get the votes, it means your efforts weren't good enough, and didn't end up helping. So it's basically like you didn't do your part of the deal, so I don't have to do mine."

She couldn't suppress the small smirk forming on her lips as she stuck her nose in the air victoriously. She knew she had won this round. That meant that if Gary truly wanted her to help him find Leaf, he was going to have to put in a lot more effort to guarantee her winning the elections. All those witty little squabbles with Paul had taught her how to use wordplay to her advantage.

Gary just blinked at her at first. Then, he grinned, raising his hands to admit defeat. "Clever girl," he said. "Well, you got me. I guess you're going to make me wait until after the elections before doing your end of the deal, huh?"

"Exactly. Which is why you're going to continue helping me. But this time, you're going to have to get my approval before you do anything, or else the deal's off."

"I hear ya," he agreed, though he was still grinning. "Okay then. So what I'll do is continue mentioning your name here and there, get a good word or two in for you. And if it bothers you _that_ much, I won't say anything bad about Rudy anymore, 'kay? What _you're_ going to do is continue your campaigning so people realize that, like I was saying in my speech, you're actually putting in some effort. And I would suggest getting some people from other grades to spread it around their classes as well. Oh, and another thing: make better posters. Yours suck."

"Gee, thanks." Misty rolled her eyes. "Sorry for not having any artistic skills."

"Then hire someone." Gary shrugged. "The way a poster looks actually makes a difference on how people see you. If your poster is unique and interesting, people fall under the impression that you are too. Trust me, I've been in the student council quite a few times."

"Okay, question. There is one thing I don't get."

"And that is?"

"Why in the world would you want to be vice president? You don't seem like the kind who would want to do so much work, and if you do want some kind of high position, why not go for president? You clearly can get the votes for that."

Gary yawned. "Oh, that? Easy. Vice president gets some power in the student council without having to do all the work of a president. Plus it just looks good on your résumé, especially when you're planning to get into a university. And I'm planning on getting into a pretty major one."

"Hypocrite," Misty accused. "You were saying Rudy wasn't serious about the position he wanted, but you yourself aren't serious about being vice president. You're just going to use the fact that you have that position to benefit yourself."

"Yeah, well, I never said I wasn't. Anything else?"

"Yes. Just wondering why you're so persistent that _I_ be the one to find Leaf, whoever she is. Don't you have, oh, I don't know, half a school full of supporters who would gladly do the job instead? Why ask me when I might not even end up helping you if I don't get the votes?"

"Because," Gary said, shrugging, "you just seem to be the most suited for the job. Asking a guy for a favour is never a good idea, and I simply find the idea of a guy tracking down Leaf just disturbing. And the only girls I know who would agree are not the kind who would get the job done. You're the most reliable."

"Glad to hear I'm reliable for stalker duty," Misty said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Well, if that's all, then I'll get going," Gary said as he began walking away. "Farewell, Little Miss Red."

Misty stared after him as he disappeared down a different hallway. Well, at least now she knew he was going to help her out the whole way, up until elections, at least. Still, she hoped he wouldn't use any more 'make the competition look bad' tactics. That angry look Dawn had been giving her as if it were all her fault still haunted her, and even after Dawn's friend Serena had quietly convinced her to get to class instead of retaliating, Misty couldn't shake the guilt that had latched onto her conscience. Maybe she'd get the chance to apologize for Gary's behaviour some time.

But right now, it was lunch break, and Misty was only just realizing how hungry she was. She began heading off to the cafeteria, wondering about Gary's dependability. Once she got to her destination, she paid for her meal, and made her way to the table where she (and sometimes Paul) always sat. But when she arrived at it, she froze.

Before her was an unlikely scene. May, the same girl who had proclaimed herself Misty's buddy and chosen to share her cafeteria table, was there again, making her way through a pile of lunch with relish. Sitting opposite of her was a teenage boy with purple hair, staring at her with mild curiosity.

What was strange about this was that Paul never tolerated sharing a table with anyone while he ate, with Misty being the only exception. And probably Reggie at home, but at school, he usually preferred eating alone. Which was something he could easily pull off, considering his glares and aura always repelled the rest of society.

So why was he seated at the table in the presence of a grade eleven girl who was currently gobbling down spoonfuls of food was a mystery, one that packed Misty's mind with inquisitiveness.

"Hey, Paul," Misty said, catching his attention.

His eyes left the brunette before him and landed on Misty. He raised an eyebrow and gestured to May with his hand, as if to say, 'Well? What's this about?'

Misty shrugged in response and sat down as well. She stared at May for a moment before finally speaking up.

"Um, May?"

May's head shot up, and she gave a huge grin. "Hi, best buddy!" she said loudly, sending a quick glance at the table where Brianna was seated. She frowned slightly when Brianna didn't react.

Paul, on the other hand, seemed to look the tiniest hint amused for about a millisecond before any sign that he was disappeared off his face.

"May, I have a question. Why exactly are you sitting here?" Misty asked.

"Because we're buddies, that's why!" May chirped. "Right, er..." She paused, leaning in close to Misty to speak in a low voice. "I, um, actually don't know your name..."

Misty stared. Did May seriously not know who she was? What happened to everyone knowing her name? Even though they all did associate it with fear...

"It's Misty."

May's eyes widened. "Misty? As in Misty Waterflower?"

"Er, yeah." Okay, so everyone _did_ know her name.

"Oh..." May sat straight again, frowning slightly. "You... don't seem like I imagined you. Everyone says you're always angry and blowing up on everyone."

"I... do have a bit of a temper, yes."

"But you don't look angry right now. Unless you are?"

"Um, no."

"Oh..."

May seemed to think for a moment, tapping her chin with the handle of her spoon. She finally offered a smile.

"Well, I don't think you're bad or anything. Hey, want to be my buddy? I'm kind of... buddy-less at the moment, and you're always sitting alone at this table, so I thought..." She trailed off, looking slightly hopeful.

"I'm always sitting alone?" Misty repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Then what's he? A lunch tray?" She jerked her thumb towards Paul, who had gone to eating his lunch with an expressionless face, though Misty suspected he was still listening to their conversation.

May confusedly turned to where Misty had pointed, and a startled look emerged on her face. "Who's that? When did he get here?"

"You mean you sat down here not even noticing him the whole time?" Misty said exasperatedly.

She knew she must have sat there after Paul, because there was no way Paul would sit at an occupied table. Maybe that's why he hadn't just left. As weird as the idea of it sounded, he must have been somewhat amused and intrigued by the fact that she hadn't even realized he existed. But really, Misty couldn't see why that of all things would interest him at all.

"Well, I guess I might have not... noticed," May admitted. "He's so quiet, I didn't even hear him. Anyways, what's his name?" She asked as if asking someone what was the name of a pet.

"He can answer that himself, you know," Misty pointed out. But when it was clear Paul wasn't going to reply, and instead let her do all the talking, she sighed, answering for him. "His name's Paul."

"Hi, Paul!" May greeted him cheerfully, as if greeting a kindergartner. "Can I be your buddy too?"

Unsurprisingly, Paul said nothing, acting like she weren't there. But surprisingly—like, very surprisingly—he didn't make any sign that meant 'no'. Which, in Paul language, was a possible answer in the affirmative.

"Yay!" May cheered, somehow succeeding in deciphering the meaning of his lack of response. "We're all going to be great buddies! You, me, and Paul!"

Misty blinked. This was disturbingly unusual, all of what had happened in less than five minutes. And Misty wasn't sure whether it was going to be a good or bad thing.

 _Good thing, possibly,_ a part of Misty's mind said. _It means she might vote for you._

Suddenly, an idea popped up into her head so fast, she almost blurted it out. This _was_ a good thing! Hadn't Gary told her he recommended getting people to spread her name as someone to be voted for around different classes? Wasn't May in grade eleven, and therefore had access to a whole different grade?

"Hey, May," Misty said, pushing back the childishly excited grin sneaking onto her lips.

"Yeah?"

"You think you can help me out with a little something?"

* * *

 **Sorry for taking so long to post this chapter, but I hope you guys liked it! I'll try to write out the next chapter as soon as I can (though something tells me it's not going to be that soon...)  
**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading! All feedback is appreciated too!**

 **Bye bye for now! Have a great day, and smile the whole way! :)**


	5. Address Unknown

**Hello, my fabulous readers! Here is a new chapter!  
**

 **Okay, for this story, I really wanted to respond to every single review, including guest reviews, but because of lack of time, how about I just do what I usually do for my other stories and only respond when I have a specific thing I want to reply to? Sound good?**

 **Okie! Onward! And happy reading!**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Address Unknown  
**

Well. This certainly was a dull way to spend lunch.

"Hey, um... vote for Misty as president," May tried to say as she held out a 'Vote for Misty Waterflower!' poster to a random passing-by student.

No use. He just walked past her. Maybe she should speak louder.

But she _couldn't_ speak louder. She wasn't particularly passionate about doing this job, and whenever she was hesitant or unmotivated to do any kind of task, she lost most of her confidence. Especially when she could be eating a delicious tray of lunch instead. Piled with noodles, and chocolate chip cookies for dessert...!

"Vote for Misty as president," May tried again, but with no avail.

She didn't even know why she had agreed. Yesterday during lunch, Misty had asked her if she would be willing to help her out with her president campaigning by handing out small posters to some of the lower grades, like grade eleven. And May—she had no idea why—had brightly said "Of course!" without a second thought. Now she _was_ getting second thoughts. Because standing by herself handing out posters to random people during lunch break while Misty went out to do campaigning elsewhere gave her a lot of time to think.

They weren't even very good posters. Sure, they had nice colours and all, but there was nothing particularly eye-catching. No interesting catchphrases or jokes, nothing. May herself wasn't an artist, but she did have a pretty creative mind. She could think of a zillion things better than just 'Vote for Misty Waterflower'.

"Well, if it isn't May Maple," a mocking voice said, breaking her out of her thoughts. She turned toward the speakers, and it caused her heart to stop.

Standing right in front of her was a certain group of girls she had no interest to interact with. But it wasn't Giselle, Ursula, or even Melody that caught May's attention. No, the one her eyes had landed on was Brianna. But her best friend—actually, _ex_ -best friend, wasn't making eye contact, or even looking at her. Instead, she seemed nervous, as if she didn't want to be there right now.

May averted her eyes and faced Melody, full on.

"What do you want, Melon?" May said, her voice full of bitter vigour.

"Um, looks like someone is behind in society," Melody said, rolling her eyes. "Only someone like you would forget _my_ name."

"Oh, I'm sorry," May said coolly. "I meant to say _Trubbish_."

Melody's eyes narrowed and she looked like she was about to say something, but Giselle spoke up first.

"Oh, how cute," she said, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Someone's been practising her comebacks. But I wonder what this blooming comeback-queen is doing standing around handing out slips of trash to anyone passing by. Don't tell me she's planning on taking a role in student council! It'll be the first step to the school's fall!"

"I don't have to answer anything _you_ say." May stuck her nose in the air. "I don't answer to peasants."

"That wasn't a question, Sweetie; it was an observation. I don't think you're capable of answering questions so advanced."

"Well—HEY!" May was about to retaliate, but was distracted when she found the posters she was holding snatched out of her clutch by Ursula.

"Oh look," Ursula said, smirking as she began to read what was on it aloud. "Vote for Misty Waterflower." She looked up at a pair of furious sapphire eyes. "Misty huh? Figures. Someone like you would of course be fooled by rubbish like that red-head. Anyone with common sense would choose Rudy."

"Don't tease her, Ursula," Giselle said. "She's doing what she's knows best: sticking with her own kind."

"But it's sad that her former companion succeeded in evolving from her pathetic level to someone of actual worth," Melody continued. "Poor Maple, left all alone because she wasn't capable of elevating herself like a certain other person. Right, Brianna?"

All eyes turned to the girl who had been quietly and—had May imagined it?—guiltily observing her shoes.

"Um," Brianna said finally. "Let's just... go. Weren't we going to have lunch in the cafeteria?"

"You're right," Melody agreed. "There's no point in wasting our time with _this_ lowlife. Let's go, girls."

As the four began to head away, Ursula shoving the posters back at her as she walked past, May noticed Brianna trying to send her a small apologetic glance. But she refused to make eye contact.

 _Brianna, how could you walk away with them?_ May found herself wondering sadly as the girls disappeared around the corner. She shook her head. No, she wasn't going to feel bad about her betrayal. It was time to move on.

But still. She couldn't understand why Brianna would choose them over her. They'd been together for so long, hadn't they? When was it they'd met, grade three? Then, on the first day of this school year, Brianna had excitedly told May that over the summer, she had coincidentally ended up volunteering at the same place as Melody, and they apparently had gotten on good terms with each other.

So during lunch, she had led May over with her to their cafeteria table, and... well, it'd become clear that those girls had accepted Brianna, but on the other hand, they treated May like she weren't even there. And when it was necessary to acknowledge May's existence, they (not including Brianna) treated her like a rotting banana peel that no one wanted to pick up to throw away.

And it was after three weeks that May had had enough. Melody, Giselle and Ursula had eventually turned her into their primary target for underhanded insults. And May, who simply could not stand her treatment, had moved to a different table—Misty's—and had been left heartbroken when Brianna did not follow. Ever since then, Melody, Giselle and Ursula had become much more free when making her their victim.

And Brianna? She did nothing to stop them. And that hurt the worst.

It felt like their friendship was being torn apart, but May could still feel the smallest bit of it hanging in there. It was as if she had fallen into a pit. A deep, never-ending abyss with nothing but a rope to hold onto so she wouldn't fall to the bottom. She so desperately wanted to climb back up herself, but a part of her was waiting for Brianna to start pulling her out first.

And Brianna just wasn't doing that.

 _Why am I even thinking about this?_ May thought to herself suddenly. _Didn't I promise myself to move on? No more thinking about Brianna! Even though she did betray me, and we haven't talked in days, which feels like ages... No! I'm still thinking about her, so I'm gonna stop now. That Brianna thinks I'm feeling lonely and upset? Well I'm not! I am perfectly fine by myself. Besides, I have Misty and... what's-his-face. That purple-haired guy. What did Misty say his name was? Poppy? No, that doesn't sound right... Anyways, I've got them. No more missing Brianna! Then why am I still thinking about her? I'm gonna stop now. Starting in three, two, one, NOW!_

A low chuckle broke her out of her thoughts. May blinked, and discovered that she was being observed by a boy who was leaning against the lockers beside her, arms folded, and an amused, _arrogant_ smirk dancing at his lips. She knew who he was, even though she'd never really talked to him before, despite being in the same grade. Everyone knew that green hair and matching green eyes.

"What's so funny?" May demanded.

"Oh, nothing," he said, shrugging, looking somewhat entertained. "What were you thinking about?"

"Huh?"

"Your face. You're standing here by yourself with a bunch of papers in your hand, with your face showing a million different expressions. It's pretty hilarious."

"Well!" May turned to him indignantly, folding her arms. "You seem pretty amused by that! What, do you make it a habit to stand beside random people and observe their faces as if you're some kind of spectator?"

"I wasn't just randomly standing here, you know. I called you about five times, but unfortunately, you were unresponsive. I need to get something from my locker."

"Then why don't you? Can't manage on your own, so you need my help or something?"

"You're standing in front of it."

May blinked and turned around, and sure enough, she was blocking a locker. Presumably his.

"Well, it's not _my_ fault your locker is there," May said, feeling her cheeks turn a faint tint of pink in embarrassment as she stepped out of the way.

"But it _is_ your fault that you are," he said teasingly as he began to take off his locker's lock. He spoke as if it were all a joke, and May couldn't help but feel insulted by the hint of superiority interwoven in his words. But it wasn't the same as when Melody's group talked to her. It didn't hurt. It was more annoying, if anything.

He opened his locker, and May's eyes landed on the inside. Books were arranged neatly on a dark green locker shelf. There were notes tidily stuck to the inside of his locker door with magnets, and there was a small whiteboard with a marker and the name 'Drew' written on it.

"I know I'm hard to ignore, but you really don't have to gawk," Drew said suddenly, snapping her out of her staring.

"Wha'? No!" May flushed and blinked, realizing that it had looked like she was staring at the boy and not the insides of his locker. "I was just wondering why you'd have to have your name written inside your locker. Do you forget it so often you need a constant reminder of what it is?"

"No. It's simply for people like you who are so desperate to know my name that they would even study the details of my locker to find it."

"I was NOT doing that! And I don't even have to, anyways; I already know your name."

"Of course you do. You doesn't?" He flipped the fringe of his hair, and his arrogant tone simply irked May to no end.

"Yes, I know it all right. It's Celery Head."

Drew turned to her, raising an eyebrow amusedly. But that look in his eye only aggravated her further. He was watching her as an adult looked down on a child.

"I'll ignore your ignorance for now," he said, the slightest hint of a grin at his lips. "But you know, you're still staring at me. I even closed my locker now, which is evidence that it's me you're looking at, not my locker."

May's face flushed an even brighter pink. Of course she was looking at him at the moment! They were talking to each other, weren't they? What, did he expect her to stare at the ceiling while she spoke? But of course, she couldn't just say that. He would probably twist her words to his own benefit. So instead, she said the next best thing.

"I am _too_ staring at your locker," she declared hotly, crossing her arms.

"And why exactly do you find my closed locker so fascinating?"

"Because... because I was thinking it's a good place to stick one of these posters!" With that, she marched right up to it and slammed one of the posters she was holding on it. And since there wasn't really anything to help it stick to the surface, it pathetically fell to the ground when she removed her hand.

Drew didn't say anything, choosing to simply stare at her stupidity with a 'Really?' face. But then, when she continued to determinedly glue her eyes on the poster-less locker door, he bent down to pick up the paper.

"Vote for Misty Waterflower," he read. He turned back to her. "Really? You're supporting Misty for president?"

"Well, yeah." May rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised someone like you could even decipher the meaning of these posters."

Drew smirked. "Well, I can, but I'm not sure you can."

"Of course I can! Why else would I be handing these out?!"

"Any logical person would vote for Rudy, you know. So why are you supporting her, exactly...?"

"Because she's my friend."

"She's your friend? I thought you had that other friend. You know, that girl with the short hair. What's her name, Diana?"

"It doesn't matter what her name is because you thought wrong. I have new, _better_ friends now!"

"Are you sure? Has it occurred to you that Misty might be using you?"

May froze. "Using me?"

"Yeah." Drew shrugged. "How do you know it's a mutual friendship? I don't think I've ever seen you two hang out together. So she could have asked for you to be her friend, and you said yes, and now she's taking advantage of you. Simple as that."

 _Is Misty just... using me?_ May thought, a troubled feeling arising in her mind. _She wouldn't, would she? Although, I haven't heard her acknowledge me as her friend even once yet. So... does that make us friends? But then again, I haven't been completely honest in calling her my friend either. At first, I was just doing that to get back at Brianna. To get over her. So I guess this is fair?_

But she had had enough of friendship fails right now. First Brianna had abandoned her, and now Misty was (possibly) taking advantage of their newfound friendship. If Misty were really using her, May didn't want to be used like that.

"Uh-oh," Drew said teasingly as he watched her worried expression. "Looks like someone is losing her denseness and discovering the truth about our not-so-innocent world."

His words filled her mind with anger all of a sudden. He was making it sound as if she had been betrayed again. He was making her doubt Misty. But whether he was right or not, _she_ had been the one to ask the red-head to be her buddy, not the other way around. Despite having known her for only a day or two, she had still _chosen_ to trust her. And unlike Brianna, who had outright left her, all Misty had done was simply ask her for a favour, not demanding it or even bribing her into it. How dare Drew suggest that she question Misty's sincerity!

May's eyes snapped right back at his, her eyes filled with the fury of raging blue flames, and with all the force she could muster, she threw one of the posters straight at his face.

"Vote for Misty Waterflower as president," she said coolly. "I appreciate your support and cooperation. Have a nice day."

With that, she turned on her heel and left, leaving a stunned green-haired teenage boy behind her.

* * *

Art class was next.

At least it was for Paul. Misty didn't take art, though Paul felt she desperately needed to if she wanted to make her posters any better. But then again, she was disastrous when it came to drawing or painting, or anything akin to that, so maybe it was better that she stuck to sports.

And so, Paul was heading to art class by himself, something that he didn't mind. But what he _did_ mind was the people around him. No one paid him any attention, but that didn't erase the tenseness he felt in a crowded hallway. With his arms tightly clutching his art supplies and books, he walked in quick strides. The faster he walked, the faster he could get to class, the faster he could escape the uneasiness.

It happened every time. He still hadn't gotten used to school, even though he'd been going to it since grade five. Before then, he lived in Veilstone City in the Sinnoh region, where he'd been home-schooled. Not that that had anything to do with his distance he kept from people. His lack of social skills were the result of his simply not liking to be with other people in general.

But after moving to Cerulean, his brother Reggie had insisted that it wasn't appropriate for him to stay home alone when he went to work. And so, school it was. And Paul didn't like it one bit.

At home, or more specifically, in his room, was where Paul was the most comfortable. He was in his domain, his territory, surrounded by things comfortable to him. If threatened, he went on offensive, being able to fight back openly and easily.

At school, it was the other way around. The most comfortable he got was when being alone in the art room. Otherwise, he went on defense mode. He didn't like being surrounded constantly by those he deemed to be possible threats. He didn't trust them. He grew up in Veilstone, the city with the highest criminal rate in all of Sinnoh. You couldn't just trust any random person off the street. Sure, Cerulean City was a much better environment, but the distrustful mentality hadn't worn off.

WHAM!

"Sorry! Sorry!"

The next thing he knew, someone had bumped into him (though it felt more like a crash), causing him to drop all of the stuff in his arms. And in front of him, giving panicky apologies, was May Maple. The same girl who had been sitting at his lunch table yesterday without even knowing of his existence. But Paul didn't pay much attention to her, instead bending down to pick his stuff up.

"Sorry! Sorry!" May apologized rapidly, hovering over him like a buzzing Beedrill. "I didn't see you! I wasn't paying attention!"

"Troublesome girl," Paul mumbled to himself, irritated. Why didn't she just leave already?

"Here, let me help you!" She bent down to starting picking up some things. _His_ things.

"Don't touch my stuff," Paul snarled defensively with such repelling coldness that she stood up again with an 'Eep!'.

"I'm sorry!" she wailed again. And for some reason, she continued standing there nervously. "Um, are you sure you don't need any help?"

" _Go_."

She nervously began stepping away, clearly getting the message. "Sorry," she said one last time, hurrying off.

As he scanned the area around him to see where his belongings had fallen, his eyes landed on one of his pencils which had rolled out of arm's reach ahead of him. And just in that moment, a high-heeled black shoe stepped right on top of it.

Paul knew what was about to happen next. He braced himself.

The person who had stepped on his pencil let out a small scream as the pencil rolled under her shoe, causing her to slip and fall right in front of the teenage boy. What Paul had not expected, though, was for the stuff in her hands to fly out—straight onto him.

"Troublesome girl!" he hissed for the second time that day.

"Ow..." The victim of his pencil (which had rolled even father away now) sat up with a groan, her long, navy blue hair following her head as she lifted it.

"Dawn! Are you okay?" her anxious friend's voice sounded beside her.

 _Dawn? Oh right. Dawn Berlitz. And her friend Serena too._ Paul rolled his eyes at Serena as she bent down to see if Dawn were okay. What was she so worried about? It was only a little fall. He was pretty sure Dawn could pick herself up.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dawn said, rubbing the part of her arm that had hit the floor. She looked up, suddenly spotting Paul and her stuff all over him. "Oh, so sorry!" she apologized. "I'm so sorry!"

Paul just glared at her, brushing one of her papers off his head, and resumed gathering up his belongings. She hurriedly began picking her own things up too, with Serena helping her out.

And, of course, she decided to attempt a chat with the random boy she had dropped her stuff onto.

"Sorry again. I wasn't looking where I was going. Man, it's annoying when you drop all your stuff, especially when it's nearly class time!"

 _You don't say?_ Her bubbly voice did nothing to prevent him from retaining his sour mood. He didn't even acknowledge their 'conversation'.

"Hold on, I just realized. I can't remember you name. But how can that be? I usually remember everyone's name. Must have slipped my mind. Serena, you remember?"

"Um... I don't think so..."

"Oh, really? So are you new here?"

 _No. I've been going to the same school as you ever since you moved into this city._

"Well, nice meeting you. Oh, this textbook says art on it! It's yours, isn't it? Off to art class?"

 _How nosy can you get?_ Paul snatched the textbook Dawn had picked up from her. _And why are you even talking to someone who is showing no interest in responding?_

"I'm going to my art class to; we must have different art teachers. Well, your textbook is the one grade twelves use, so I'm guessing that's what grade you're in. I'm in grade eleven. Name's Dawn by the way. What's yours?"

 _My name has been lost in the land of None of Your Business._

"Not in the mood to talk, are you?"

 _You think?_

"Well, I guess that's all my stuff. Need any help with yours?"

Paul gave her a 'touch my stuff and die' glare. For once, she seemed to get the hint, though her ebullient demeanor didn't diminish.

"You sure? Well— Oh! I'm forgetting something!"

Her eyes had landed on the last two books remaining on the ground: a pink notebook lying over a dark grey one. As she bent down to pick it up, the bell suddenly rang. Class was about to start.

Distracted by the bell, both Dawn and Paul hastily grabbed at their respective books and got up.

"Gotta go! Nice meeting you!" Dawn chirped as she began to head off, Serena at her side.

 _Can't say likewise,_ Paul thought irritatedly, muttering "Troublesome girl," under his breathe.

Apparently, Dawn had Zubat-hearing, because she turned around with slight annoyance. "I heard that!" she called out.

Paul simply ignored her, and walked down the hall to art class. Along the way, he spotted a certain pencil. The same pencil Dawn had tripped over.

"Stupid pencil," he muttered, picking it up.

* * *

"Whew, we made it!" Dawn exclaimed, arriving at at her classroom.

"Yeah," Serena said. "I thought we were going to be late for a second there. But Mrs. Andres is so nice; I don't think she would have minded too much."

Dawn held herself up, grinning. "Yeah, but when I'll be elected secretary, I need to be sure I'm always punctual!"

" _If_ you're elected secretary," a voice spoke up from behind them. "Don't forget _I'm_ running too."

Dawn turned around to face the green-haired teenager behind her. "Hey, Drew!"

"It' so hard to guess which one of you will be elected," Serena commented. "Both of you have a lot of supporters."

"Think again, Serena," Drew said, smirking and flipping his hair. "I might just come out on top."

"No way! I'm winning this no matter what!" Dawn declared determinedly, grinning at her rival for the secretary position.

"We'll see about that."

Dawn in Drew were both rivals when it came to getting the most votes for secretary during the elections. But it was in no way a heated rivalry. They had started off as just mere acquaintances in class; their conversations were usually brief friendly greetings. But ever since they'd realized they were both running for the same position this year, their exchanges had become more frequent, the topic usually being who would win. Even so, there were no hard feelings for the one who didn't. Besides, both knew that if they didn't acquire the role, they would stand for class representative instead.

"What's that?" Dawn asked suddenly, her eyes landing on the sheet of paper in Drew's hand.

For some reason, Drew gave a little chuckle. "Oh this? It's just a little... _gift_ someone gave me on the way here."

He handed it over to the blunette, who read it. "Vote for Misty Waterflower." Her eyes furrowed. "Let me guess. On the way here, Misty tried to get you to vote for her."

"Uh, no. One of her supporters was handing these out. And... yeah, that's how I ended up with it."

Dawn's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Don't tell me you're planning to vote for her."

Drew shrugged. "Well, I wasn't planning to."

"Why do I feel like there is a 'but' coming up?"

"Why, what's up with you and Misty? You two get into a fight or something?"

"Well... no."

"Then? What did she do?"

"She herself actually didn't do anything we know for sure about," Serena spoke up. "It was actually that yesterday, Gary went and announced to everyone that they should vote for Misty."

"You're not giving the details!" Dawn said furiously. "Gary supporting Misty, it's all fine, but he went and _dissed_ Rudy in front of everyone! He went and lied to everyone about him! It wasn't fair! I mean, it was obvious Misty asked him to do all that, but did she have to get him to put down Rudy like that as well?"

"It's not against the rules," Drew pointed out. "People do it all the time."

"But... ugh! The kind of person who would do something like that is definitely NOT someone I'd vote for, I'll tell you that! Who was her supporter you mentioned anyways?"

"A girl." Drew started to sit down in his seat. "I think her name's May or something."

Dawn blinked. "May? As in the girl in our homeroom? The one who always hangs out with Brianna? Well, at least before Brianna started hanging out with those other girls. Why would she support Misty, though? She seems too nice to support someone like Misty."

"I don't know, but even when I pointed out that she might be being used, her reaction made it pretty clear that she thought I was wrong."

"Huh. That's—"

"Guys, the teacher's here," Serena told them, and they quickly went to their seats.

Mrs. Andres was a nice art teacher, always supportive and creative, and always giving tips on how to improve their art skills. And whenever they were going to start an art project, she showed the class some work from previous years, usually the work of a specific student who went by the name of Paul Shinji. Dawn thought his works were masterpieces. Whoever he was.

Today was no exception. Mrs. Andres informed everyone about their next assignment: creating a painting that reflected a kind of emotion. Made the audience feel something. And, as examples, she set up several paintings by those she called her "top artists from previous classes" around the classroom.

"Wow, these are really good," Serena whispered to Dawn. "I don't know how we're going to top those."

"Just wait until we see that Paul Shinji guy's painting," Dawn said. "I'm sure Mrs. Andres is going to show us one of his as well!"

"And finally, we have this one," Mrs. Andres said as she set up the final painting on a stand beside the other paintings. "This one's called 'Address Unknown' by Paul Shinji."

Dawn excitedly craned her neck to get a good look at it. Unfortunately, a taller kid decided to stand right in her way.

"Curse my shortness..."

"Now you may all come have a look at these and use them as a source of inspiration if you so wish. I don't expect you to decide on what you are going to do right away, but I hope you have your mind made up by the end of the week. We will be starting on Monday."

Soon, everyone was on their feet, studying the paintings on the stands. Dawn immediately pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring all the other paintings for the one signed 'P.S'. For Paul Shinji.

It was another masterpiece by him. He had made a road that seemed to stretch for miles and miles and at the far end, going down it, a person could be seen, trudging... trudging... trudging... trudging...

The colours he had used mainly consisted of different shades of grey, everything from the colourless sky to the dusty road and the surrounding rubble. The person himself, he was painted grey too, but somehow, he seemed to stand out, and at the same time look like he was a part of the dust himself, about to be blown away by the lacklustre wind.

 _So lonely,_ Dawn thought, her eyes taking in the melancholy image. It looked like the person in the painting was walking with no hope, like the life had been sucked out of him. And yet, despite that, he was still pushing on, as if he had somewhere to be. Somewhere he wanted to end up. Somewhere he belonged. Like... home.

 _But home's address is unknown._

Dawn soon found herself seated in her chair, her mind glued to the painting. It had such an impact on her. Continuous pangs of sorrow invaded her chest every time she wondered about that person in the painting, and she had to remind herself that it wasn't a real person. And yet if the painter had put his heart into it, wouldn't it be a reflection of himself?

"Pst! Are you all right?" Serena whispered to her.

"Better than ever!" Dawn replied, giving her biggest smile. "Those paintings are so deep!"

"You always seem so absorbed into that Paul guy's paintings. I don't know why, though. They're kind of depressing, don't you think?"

"But that's what I like about them! They're so deep and heartfelt; it's like I can feel exactly what that painting is trying to say! It's just so... I don't how to describe it. I wish I could paint as well as him."

"You probably can. But you'll have to start thinking up ideas, you know."

"Yeah..."

Dawn gave the painting a final glance, wishing she could plant it into her memory forever. But now, it was time to think up her own idea. She sharpened her pencil and got ready to start sketching. Random sketching always gave her that spark she needed. In fact, she had a specific pink drawing book for that exact reason.

 _Wait, where did it go?_

It was gone. Her drawing book was gone. She had it with her, though; she was sure of it! She had taken it out of her locker, held it with all her belongings, crashed into that grade twelve guy, and nearly forgotten it. But she precisely remembered picking it up as the bell rang.

"What's wrong, Dawn?" It was Serena again, concern in her voice. "Did you lose something?"

"My book! You know, my pink drawing book. I can't find it!"

"Are you sure it didn't get tucked into one of your other books?"

"Positive! I checked everywhere, and—"

Dawn froze mid-sentence as an unfamiliar book slipped out from between her belongings. It was similar to her drawing book in size, but it was grey instead. It stood out in contrast to her other colourful stuff.

"Is that yours?" Serena said, her eyes landing on it as well.

"Um, no." Dawn picked it up, frowning. How had it gotten into her stuff? "Where did this come from?"

"I don't know." Serena frowned as well before her eyes lit up. "Wait. Do you think it might belong to that guy you ran into earlier?"

"Huh?"

"You might have picked up his book by accident. Oh, and maybe that's where your drawing book went too. You guys might have switched."

Dawn blinked. Then blinked again.

And then the panic set in.

That guy had her book? That random guy whom she had never seen before had her special drawing book?! No no no no! What if he looked in it? The drawings in it were private! They were purely for herself, for her own inspiration and thoughts, not for anyone else to see!

 _I have to get it back! I have to get it back! I can't let someone just... take it! No no no no no no no!_

Forgetting that class was still in session, and that they were supposed to be quietly brainstorming on their assignment, Dawn felt the sudden urge to get up and find that guy as soon as she could. Find him, and see if he had taken her book, and hope he hadn't looked in it.

"Dawn, I have an idea." Serena's voice brought her back to the classroom. "You have his book, right? You could look in it and see if his name's in it. And you already know he's in grade twelve, so it shouldn't be hard to find out who he is."

Dawn blinked. "That's actually a very good idea. But should I really be opening his book? What if he has some personal stuff in it?"

"You won't be reading it or looking or anything. Just glance at the inside of the cover and see if he wrote his name."

"Right."

Cautiously, Dawn flipped open the cover, peeking at what was inside. The first page was blank, but she could tell the next pages weren't. And on the cover, there wasn't a name, but instead initials.

Dawn sighed. "No name. Just initials. P.S."

"Well, too bad. But we can still look around and see if we can spot him. And maybe he wants his book back, so he'll be searching for you too."

"I guess." Sighing again, Dawn closed the cover and stared at the book. She wanted her own back. It made her feel insecure letting someone else see it; it was practically a doorway into her mind. Maybe he wasn't a nosy guy and wouldn't look in it? But then again, what were the chances of that? At least she had some kind of lead on him. She just needed to find someone with the initials P.S.

 _Wait._

 _What?_

Dawn found herself practically ripping open the cover again. There it was. P.S. Written in the same writing style she had seen countless times. Her eyes travelled to the paintings.

P.S.

 _Paul Shinji._

She had Paul Shinji's book. She had PAUL SHINJI'S book! The same artist whose artwork she had admired for so long. She had been under the impression he was someone who had already graduated; she had no idea he was only one grade ahead of her!

But then that meant they had been going to the same school for a long time, since Mrs. Andres always showed the class his previous work, even in past years. Why hadn't she known who he was, then? And just a while ago, when they had run into each other (well, she had run into him), she had just gone and called him a new student!

Straining her memories, she could faintly recall briefly glimpsing him in the hallways. And maybe he was possibly in the yearbook too? Why had neither she nor Serena remembered him then? He just seemed to blend into the background so easily. _Too_ easily.

But right now, she had his book. And she could tell it was a drawing book. There was a vague drawing that could be seen through the first blank page. Meaning all she had to do was flip it to see his work.

Should she? She found her curious self at war with her reasonable side.

 _You really shouldn't, Dawn. It could be private._

 _Aw, come on! It's not like I'm reading his diary or anything. I'm just taking a small peek at a drawing or two._

 _Yes, but the book's not yours. You can't just look into it without permission._

 _It can't hurt! I don't have to tell him I did either._

 _How would you feel if he looked into your book, huh? It's personal, private. He wouldn't like it if you do it, Dawn._

 _But... this is my only chance! I'll never get an opportunity like this!_

 _Only chance for what exactly? You see his artwork all the time through Mrs. Andres._

 _Yeah, but this is my chance to see what goes on in his head while he's planning or free drawing and stuff. How will I become a better artist if I don't know how good artists think?_

 _All artists have their own unique ways of thinking, Dawn. There is no one way. Besides, you're more into fashion designing. You don't need to look at his work to know how to design an outfit._

 _Yeah, but it could inspire me!_

 _Excuses, excuses. Don't do it, Dawn! You're not supposed to look at other people's personal drawing books!_

 _But..._

Ugh, why was this so difficult? All she had to do was close the cover and never open it again. She couldn't let her curiosity get in the way of doing what was right. But something in her kept luring her fingers to its paper.

 _Look, don't look, look, don't look, look, don't look, look..._

 _Look._

* * *

 **Chapter five has finally been completed and posted! Whew! Took a while, but here it is! I wanted to start to really introduce everyone who hasn't had much focus yet. I really wanted to bring in Leaf too, but she just didn't fit in here. But I'll have her show up soon!  
**

 **Oh, and if you're wondering about the title, about why I have it named 'Address Unknown' when the painting only comes up once, it's because I feel it fits this chapter in a more figurative sense.  
**

 **There's the painting, yes, but there's also May, who's feeling lost with her friendship with Brianna, and doesn't know which way to turn and where to go when it comes to that. Then there is Paul, who feels cautious at school, like it's not where he belongs. And then there is also that fact that Dawn had no idea who the grey book belonged to before she realized it's Paul's.**

 **(Also, please note: if there is an actual painting/story/movie/song/any other kind of work called 'Address Unknown', it's entirely coincidental. I have no idea whether or not a real thing with that title exists.)**

 **So yeah. Just a tiny behind-the-scenes thing.**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading! Any kind of feedback or critiques, I'm all ears! (Or eyes, technically, since I read your reviews, not hear them.)**

 **Bye bye for now! Have a fabulous day, and smile all the way! :)**


	6. Books and Nerds

**Welcome, my wonderful readers from far and wide! Here is chapter six, which I finally succeeded in completing despite the tremendous amount of schoolwork cast upon me.  
**

 **And so, happy reading!**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Books and Nerds  
**

Paul was back in the comfort of his room.

School had ended for the day, and so Paul had wasted no time in escaping what he thought of as a prison. Now that he had changed out of his uniform and fixed his hair, it was time to relax. Probably start off with some sketching, or maybe see if he had gotten any ideas for an art piece while at school.

He opened his schoolbag and stuck his hand in to retrieve something. He kept multiple drawing books, each for a different kind of thing. Many of them had been filled up, but he always made sure that he had one at all times of the day. Even at school, he usually took with him a grey drawing book in which he would do small sketches or drawings whenever struck by inspiration. And then he would come home and work on his ideas.

His hand grasped onto what felt like his drawing book amongst the rest of his stuff, and he blindly pulled it out and opened it randomly in the middle. But what his eyes landed on momentarily shocked him.

 _What the— Wait, this isn't my drawing. What the heck is **this**?!_

Staring back at him was a drawing that was nothing close to his usual work. It was a sketch of a girl wearing a long, fancy dress (which was, admittedly, designed fairly well) and posing in a peppy way.

Paul quickly snapped the book shut and stared at the cover, seeing it properly this time.

It was pink. It was... pink? It was PINK?! What was a PINK book doing in his stuff? Paul Shinji did _not_ own any _pink_ drawing books! Actually, Paul Shinji did not own any pink books period.

 _What the heck?! Where did this come from?!_

He dropped it onto his desk and stared at it as if it were a disgusting chemical that would acidify his hands with its bubbly-ness if he touched it for too long.

 _Where's my book, then?_

He began rummaging through his bag again. And he couldn't find it. His grey book was gone. It just couldn't be located, nor had it gotten in between any of his other books. He finally reached the conclusion that it simply wasn't in there. Where was it, then?

He sat down, tipping back on his chair and folding his legs and crossing his arms as he thought.

Let's see, he had taken it with him everywhere at school, he was sure. But he hadn't really done anything in it since lunch, since lunchtime had been the only time he had had a chance to open it at all. Since then, it had just been tucked in between several other books that he was carrying around. Well, he had dropped it once, though, when May had bumped into him. And then Dawn had arrived and—

Wait. Their stuff had all fallen and gotten mixed up. Could she have gotten his book by mistake? Well, he might have forgotten it and left it lying on the hallway floor, but he couldn't remember seeing anything other than his fallen pencil after he had gotten up. Maybe they had accidentally switched their books.

Paul sighed in annoyance. Losing his drawing book wasn't a problem; he had plenty more. It was the fact that someone else had it. And he didn't like others touching his stuff. It was _his_ and not anyone else's. They had no business even trying to lay their hands on his possessions.

He glanced at the pink book that was on his desk, the one whose very presence felt offensive. It was an intruder in his gallery. He didn't want it in there. A part of him wished to burn it at the stake; the other said it was probably more logical to return it.

Unfortunately, he hated the idea of having to talk to someone he didn't know and return her book, and then ask for his own book in return on top of that. And especially when it hadn't been his fault. _She_ had dropped her stuff on _him_.

 ***Ding dong***

The ring of the doorbell caught his attention. He and Reggie rarely ever had visitors, so the only one Paul could think of who would have arrived at this moment was Misty. Reggie had already come home and was probably unwinding after a long day of work, so it couldn't be him anyways. Although even if it were, he would probably use the key to come in.

 _Reggie can get that,_ Paul thought, closing his eyes. He wasn't in the mood to get up right now.

But Reggie didn't get it. The bell rang over and over repeatedly, making it impossible for Paul to not want to murder someone. He became sure then that the visitor was indeed _not_ Misty. She would have started yelling by now.

Huffing in frustration, he got up and went to the door, yanking it open.

 _"What?"_

"Hello you too, Jerkhead," came the sarcastic reply.

Paul's expression went from 'The one bothering me will die' to 'Oh great. _Her_ again.'

"Oh, it's _you_ ," he said, putting emphasis on the 'you' as if it were an insult to him.

"I'm just as pleased to see you as you are to see me, Mister Smiley. And how are you this dreadful evening?"

"Getting more disgusted by the minute. You?"

"Lovely. Like I'm skipping through thorns."

"Why don't you go and actually do that?"

"Oh, I would love to, but I have work that needs to be done. Call your brother."

"Why?"

"Obviously because I have some business with him."

"What if I said no?"

"Geez, you're such a kid. Quit acting so immature and get out of my way already."

And without bothering to wait for his nonexistent cooperation, she shoved passed him into the house.

Her name was Iris. At first glance, some might think she was a relative of Paul's since the two of them had purple hair. But they would be sorely mistaken (and possibly mysteriously disappear after being summoned into a dark alley by Paul). All Iris was was a girl a year or two younger than him who happened to be a colleague of his brother's. Why she worked instead of going to school, Paul never cared to find out. It wasn't his business, so he wouldn't even question it if he did.

But what he _was_ questioning at the moment was why she was intruding his house's front door at the moment. Because one thing was for sure.

She. Was. Annoying.

She had taken note of his attitude the first time they'd met, and since then, they had formed a mutual dislike for each other. Not that they truly had reason to; Paul just didn't like her for some unknown reason, and Iris had picked up on that. Unfortunately, as Iris worked with Reggie, she showed up at their house on occasion whenever there was something she wanted to discuss.

"Where's your brother?" Iris asked, scanning the area.

"No clue," Paul answered, shrugging and heading for the stairs. Time to return to the glory of his room.

One of the things Paul didn't like about Iris was that she was quick on her feet. It was bothersome when she wanted him to do something and would make sure he did it by blocking his path whenever he attempted to make his exit.

So naturally, the staircase was soon blocked by a wild-haired girl.

"Get your brother," she said, crossing her arms.

"Cell phones and texting exist for a reason."

"So text him and ask him where he is."

"Why don't _you_ do that?"

"Because _Reggie_ has my cell phone!"

"Well, sucks to be you. Get out of my way."

"Not until this room has three purple-headed people standing in it!"

"Well technically, we're not in a room. We're on the _stairs_."

"Close enough!"

"And you call _me_ a kid..."

"Um, what are you guys doing?"

The two turned to see Reggie standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at them in puzzlement.

"There you are, Reggie!" Iris nimbly hopped past Paul to stand on the step in front of the purple-haired man. "Hey!"

"Hello to you too, Iris!" Reggie greeted cheerfully. "I didn't know you were coming over. I was in the backyard, but then I heard someone arguing in the house, so I decided to check to see if Paul were arguing with himself or something. A foreseen sign of his slowly approaching insanity... So how's it going?"

"Great! Oh, I just came here to ask for my cell phone back."

"Your cell phone?"

"Yeah! Remember how I handed it to you while I was dealing with that Dragonite? Well, I realized I never asked for it back. I would just get it back from you tomorrow, since I kinda feel guilty for bothering you right now, but I sorta need it today."

Reggie laughed. "Hey, don't worry about it! Let's see..." He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone with an Axew case. "Hahaha, it was still in my pocket! Here you go!"

"Thanks!" Iris pocketed her cell phone and swiftly arrived at the front door. Just as she was about to go out, she turned around. "Hey, Reggie I forgot to tell you! Guess what?"

"What?"

"Remember how I was saying I was looking for a weekend job? I think I might have found one!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah! It's a restaurant that opened a couple of months ago, and I think I'll be able to help them out during the weekends!"

"That's great! Just don't overdo it, you know. You work all morning at the Pokemon sanctuary during weekdays and now all weekends too? Everyone needs breaks, Iris."

"Oh, it's fine. I do it for the experience! Besides, I hardly call working at the sanctuary a job. It's so much fun, looking after all those Pokemon!"

"Whatever you say, Iris."

"Oh, I gotta go! Bye, Reggie!"

"Later!"

With that, she was finally gone.

Paul rolled his eyes and began continuing up the stairs. "I'm outta here."

* * *

Paul was well into his sketching before his room door barged open, and in walked Misty with her school bag and laptop case. "S'up Jerk," she said, flopping down onto his bed without even looking at him or waiting for a response.

"What are you doing here?" Paul asked in a bored voice, eyes trained on his sketching. "And please don't mess up my bed."

"Wi-Fi isn't working at my place, so I came to steal yours. Need it for some homework."

"Hn. Just don't bother me."

They worked in silence, before Paul finally decided to address the waves of moodiness wafting from his friend. Not because he cared, but because it was disrupting the pleasant atmosphere of his room.

"And you are murderously grouchy today because...?"

"Ugh!" Misty said, shutting her laptop in fury. She fell back on his bed. "Don't want to talk about it."

"Good, because I don't want to hear about it either."

"It's my sisters. They suck."

"I thought you weren't going to talk about it?"

"Seriously! All I'm doing is my homework, and they decide to come bother me! They're all like, 'Misty, do you, like, need some help?' And I say, 'No, go away. I can do this homework better than any of you can, anyways,' and they're like, 'We weren't talking about the homework. We were talking about your president campaigning. You know, since you _are_ our helpless baby sister, we think it's our duty to prevent you from being intensely humiliated.' And then they laugh! I wasn't even doing anything, and they just decide to come up and bug me about it!"

"You know I don't care about any of this, right?" Paul interjected, knowing he was going to be ignored. He was regretting turning on her rant mode right now.

"Like they know anything! My campaigning has been going excellently! I'm already getting supporters, and I know I'll get the most votes next week! I don't need their help, because I can handle this myself, and I don't care what they say, because I _am_ going to win this election!"

"Right. Can you be quiet now?"

"And you!" She sat up, directly facing him with eyes of fury.

"Me?" What had he done now?

"You think the same way! You think I'm going to fail!"

 _Well, what I say and what I think occasionally differ, as you should already know. So how exactly would you know what I think?_

"Well, let this be for you too: I. Will. Become. President. Got it?! And if you don't want to help, then see if I care!"

 _You wouldn't have brought this up if you didn't care._

"You know," Paul said lazily. "If you ask _really_ nicely, I _could_ immolate a few of my precious hours to better your campaigning posters. They are an insult to everything creative."

"You know what? Forget it!" Misty abruptly stood up and marched out of his room.

Paul glanced at his bed where she had left all her stuff, shook his head, and went back to his sketching. If he knew Misty, she had probably gone to terrorize Reggie's carrot garden outside. She had the tendency to go outside to cool down by stomping around in circles. And, on occasion, she would unknowingly stomp into Reggie's vegetable patch, specifically where he planted the carrots because only the carrot shoots ever showed, so it was difficult to differentiate them from weeds. At least, it was for Paul. And apparently, Misty.

Paul just hoped Reggie stopped her in time. If not, he would have to suffer through Reggie's miserable explanation on why there were no carrots for dinner. Even if they weren't going to have carrots anyways, or the carrots hadn't even grown yet. That pathetic carrot-loving eggplant of a brother.

Paul glanced at his bag in which he had tucked that horrible pink book. He could ask Misty to return it for him later on. Today didn't look like a good time, though.

* * *

 **Two days later...**

Misty was in panic mode.

She had reason to be. All this time, she had had it all wrong. Why hadn't anyone told her?!

 _Because your only friends are Paul, who doesn't care if you win or not, and May, who's too dimwitted to know anything,_ a little harsh, stress-consumed voice inside her head told her. But of course, with a clearer mind, she would have probably been able to reason that they simply hadn't known either. Besides, it was _her_ responsibility.

The elections, it seemed were NOT next Friday. They were on Wednesday, two days earlier than Misty had thought. Had the day been changed? Or had it always been Wednesday? Misty wished she had someone to inform her about these kinds of things. The only reason she had found out at all was because she'd been idly walking down the halls yesterday, when one of Rudy's posters had caught her eye. And it said 'Make Wednesday Wins-day! Vote for Rudy!' Yes, it was a pretty lame pun (to Misty, at least) but very informative as well.

And now, it was Friday after school, and she had just been majorly cut down on time. She couldn't do anything over the weekend, so she had only Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday morning before the elections (which were going to be held at lunch) to convince the majority of the school to get on her side. How was she supposed to do that in only two and a half days?!

And that wasn't the only problem. She also had to give her why-you-should-vote-for-me-as-president speech, which was going to be held Tuesday during lunch. Which meant she had to make an excellent speech that would win over everyone successfully.

Unfortunately, she had close to zero experience in making a speech, let alone a sensational one.

And that was why she was currently in the school library. Her final class had just ended, and she had wasted no time in going to search for some kind of book that would aid her with her predicament. Something informative on how to make an effective speech...

She sighed in annoyance, tucking the book she had picked up back into its place on the shelf. It was no use. She couldn't find anything! She would have to visit the public library to see if there was anything there. What if there weren't? Well, then the internet might help. Her Wi-Fi had started working again.

"How much longer do you plan to stand there?" a bored voice drawled behind her.

Misty, who had been blocking a part of the shelf whilst staring at the various book options, spun around, about to apologized. But once she saw who it was, she couldn't help but feel a certain indignation bubble up within her.

"Oh, it's _you_ again," the boy standing behind her said. "What, do you derive some kind of pleasure from blocking other people's ways?"

Yup, it was none other than Trip.

"Well, excuse _me_ ," Misty said, planting her hands on her hips, "but didn't anyone ever teach you, oh, I don't know, _patience_? It's kind of something you have when you wait for other people to be done before getting your turn."

"Oh, were you looking for something? All I saw was you standing there, doing nothing but gawking at the shelf for a good few minutes. Some of us actually need to get some books."

"Yeah, _me included_! Now why don't you go away and wait till I'm done!" She furiously turned back to the shelf and began re-investigating the shelf, despite having gone through it at least twice before.

"I find it funny, you lecturing me about patience, seeing as you have none with that temper of yours." Trip, it appeared, had not left. "You should practise what you say others should do yourself, you know. Don't want to be a hypocrite, do you?" He shrugged. "Common knowledge like that, it's basic."

"You know what? I don't want to stand around here with an arrogant jerk like you. I'm outta here!" She stomped away. She had no desire to bicker with Trip when she had work to do. Besides, she was getting a bit bored, looking through the same bookshelf over and over again.

Huffing, she headed for the back of the library. This particular place where Misty was was always quiet with few others to disturb her. She knew because many useful books for school could be found here. She always checked these bookshelves for when she needed something, and also found that this place was ideal for when she wanted to cool down.

She wasn't alone, she saw. Comfortably settled in one of the armchairs was a girl with long, brown hair and glasses who was absorbed in a large book she had open on her lap. Misty was used to seeing her there. She didn't know her name, but the girl could be seen reading on that armchair almost every time Misty entered the library. Neither ever bothered each other, as both were always intent on maintaining the tranquility.

Misty, not having much else to do, began scanning the books in nearby shelves, even though she didn't think she would find anything of use. It was that or stand there awkwardly staring into space.

"Hey, Leaf." A voice caught her attention. A blond boy with large, round glasses had appeared, and was leaning over to quietly whisper to the girl who was on the armchair. Although it was so quiet, Misty was sure she could detect even the slightest breath. "I'm done with it," the boy was saying. "Do you want to come see?"

The girl he had called Leaf looked up at him, sighing exasperatedly. She took off her glasses to reveal the green eyes behind them. " _Now_ , Clemont?" she said, not bothering to whisper, though she didn't speak loudly either. "I'm not done reading this chapter."

"Well,"—the boy called Clemont hesitated—"now would be best. Can't stay here for much longer today, and if right now doesn't work, I'll have to take it down before I leave and set it up again tomorrow."

Leaf's flickered to her book, then back at Clemont. "Fine," she said. "Just give me a few minutes. Let me at least finish the next two pages."

"Sure, no problem."

"Oh, and hold on." Leaf reached into her backpack, which was on the floor, leaning against the side of the armchair. She pulled out a book and handed it to Clemont. "Page... 89. Yeah, I think it was 89. Check it."

"Thanks." With the book in hand, Clemont noiselessly left. Leaf slipped her glasses back on and continued reading.

Misty wasn't one to get into other people's business, nor was she one to eavesdrop. But it had been difficult not to overhear the exchange that had just occurred. She felt a mild curiosity linger within her as she wondered what all that had been about, but she doubted she would ever find out. Whatever it was, it didn't involve her. It was Leaf and Clemont's business.

 _Leaf... Leaf... Why does that name sound so familiar?_ Misty thought, her fingertips leisurely grazing the books' spines so she would look occupied.

She froze.

She glanced back at Leaf, who was lazily twirling a strand of her long brown hair around her finger, her green eyes, which were prominent behind her glasses, locked onto the pages of her book.

 _"She likes lying low,"_ Gary had said. _"But you must have seen her at some point, at least. Long brown hair, green eyes, usually with a book?"_

Misty calmly walked into another aisle, away from watching eyes. Then she madly pulled out her cell phone, opened it up, and began searching for Gary's name on her contacts list, as Gary had given her his number in case she had an update on her search.

Which she most definitely did.

How hadn't she figured it out before? She always saw this girl, sitting there, reading. And hadn't Trip called her 'Green' just earlier that week?

Leaf _Green._

"Stupid, stupid," Misty muttered to herself, starting to type in a text to Gary. Sure, she had insisted that she wasn't inclined to help him until after she won (if she did, anyways) but she knew that he had been keeping his word so far. She could often hear people whispering around her when she walked past.

 _"There's Misty."_

 _"You know, I've been thinking about what Gary told me yesterday. Maybe... I should give her a chance. See what she has planned."_

 _"What, seriously? Are you forgetting who you're talking about?!"_

 _"It was just a thought..."_

Usually something along those lines. But it proved to her that Gary was doing his job and slowly getting people on her side. It was at least worth something. She quickly texted ' _i found leaf_ ' and pressed the send button. She barely had to wait before she got a reply.

 _From: Mr. Ego_

 _u found her? where?_

 _From: Misty_

 _in the back of library_

 _From: Mr. Ego_

 _really? awesome! was about to leave! hold on, on my way!  
_

Hold on? What, did Gary want her to stay there until he showed up? Misty glanced around the bookshelf to where Leaf was seated. It didn't look like she was going to leave or anything...

Suddenly, Leaf tucked a bookmark into her book and shut it. She stood up, picking up her backpack and taking off her glasses, shoving them into her pocket. Misty could have sworn she saw her eyes flicker towards her for a millisecond, and then she was gone. She just walked off, bag slung over her shoulder.

Misty hesitated. Should she follow? Should she text Gary to tell him that he was too late? Although if he were on his way, wouldn't he run into Leaf when she headed out?

"Yo, Misty."

Misty spun around to see none other than Gary Oak standing right behind her, smirking.

"You're too late, you know," Misty said. "She already left."

Gary frowned. "What? But you only texted me a few minutes ago."

"Yeah, and she's gone. She went out like, two seconds ago. Didn't you see her?"

"Um, no. Are you sure she was here? I arrived just now, so wouldn't I have run into her or something?"

"That's what I was wondering." Misty shrugged. "Oh well. At least I know who she is now."

"Man, so close!" Gary muttered. "Strange, though. I know she loves books, but I never see her in here."

"Seriously?" Misty raised an eyebrow. "I see her here every time I step foot in this place. Just didn't know who she was until now."

"Really? Where?"

"Well, she's always sitting right there." Misty pointed to the armchair Leaf had been seated on.

"I don't get it," Gary said, more to himself than Misty. "I _never_ see her around here, not even where you're saying she always is..."

"Well, you did say she was avoiding you," Misty pointed out. "So she probably keeps track of where you always are so she doesn't run into you or anything."

"How, though...?" Gary thought for a moment. "If she were here just now, that means she might still be within school grounds," he mused. "'Kay, I'll go take a quick look around." He turned and walked off without another word.

Misty stared after him, rolling her eyes. "You're welcome," she said, even though she knew he couldn't hear her. Sighing, she turned back to the bookshelves, trying to remember why she was in the library in the first place.

 _Oh right. It was to find something to help with my speech._

And remembering renewed her stress all over again.

Well, she wasn't going to find anything here. At least she had the weekend. With that in mind, she stepped out of the library and began heading down the empty school hall. She couldn't help but feel a mixture of anxiety and hopelessness. She needed more people by her side than Ash, Gary and May. She wished Paul would help, but when she remembered his taunts, she stubbornly pushed him out of her mind.

If only she didn't have such a temper, maybe her reputation wouldn't be as fear-inducing as it was...

"Pst!"

She was about to push open the school doors to head outside when a sound caught her attention. She turned to look behind her, but saw nothing.

"Pst! Over here, Misty," the voice said.

Okay, this was now officially creepy. She knew that voice, and it sent shivers up her spine, but she just couldn't place it...

And then she saw him, lurking in the shadows with his disturbing grin on his face, gesturing her to come over.

Yeah. There was no way she was going to go over there. Not when her summoner was _Conway_. The teenage grade-twelve boy infamous for... for being plain creepy, for lack of a better way to put it.

"Get lost," Misty said bluntly, starting to push the doors open.

"Okay, okay," Conway said, stepping out of the shadows. "Since there is no one here, I guess it's safe to say this without worrying about being overheard." He chuckled, adjusting his glasses so they flashed light.

"What do you want, Conway?" Misty said, impatiently tapping her foot. She was at a lost as to why he would contact her out of the blue, but had the tiniest bit of budding inquisitiveness ailing her mind.

"For you to follow me, actually."

"To?"

"Well, a certain friend of mine wants to talk to you about something."

"You _actually have_ friends?"

"Now, that was just plain rude." Though he seemed more amused than offended.

"Well? What do they want?"

Conway shrugged. "I'm not one hundred percent sure, to be honest. She just said she wanted me to tell you to meet her in Room 89. That's all. See you there." He sunk back into the shadows, seemingly melting into them and vanishing without a trace.

"Room 89?" Misty debated on whether she should go or not. First of all, she had no idea who it was. Second, _Conway_ of all people had been the one to call her. Sure, she didn't know anything about him, but she didn't trust him in the least. But then again, he had said 'she', so maybe it wouldn't be too bad if it were a girl she was meeting. Unless Conway was lying. She had heard that he was pretty conniving.

"Oh, what the heck," she muttered, starting to walk towards the room. She'd been taking enough risks lately, so what difference did one more make? Besides, if Conway was messing with her, he'd have her fist to answer to.

Finally, she was there. It looked like any other classroom, except that the window on the door had a poster stuck over it so it was impossible to see what was going on inside. But the light sneaking through the bottom of the door indicated that someone might be in there.

She knocked. No answer.

She turned the doorknob. It was locked.

She was starting to get frustrated. Well, Conway had told her to come, hadn't he? Why wasn't anyone answering? This _was_ Room 89, wasn't it?

Suddenly, the door opened. Not a secretive crack, like Misty had expected, but in a normal, welcoming way. And not by Conway either, but instead by a tall, blond boy with blue eyes peering out of his large, round glasses.

"Hey!" he greeted brightly. "You must be... um, Misty, right?" He was the same boy who had been talking to Leaf in the library. That Clemont-guy.

"Um, yeah?" Misty said uncertainly.

"Come on in, then!" He stepped out of the way, allowing her into the brightly-lit room. She soon saw that he wasn't the only one in there. There were a few others as well. But before she managed to take a good look at them, someone called her name.

"Misty Waterflower," the voice said in a bored tone. It was a girl's. A girl with long brown hair and bored green eyes who was sitting in the teacher's desk in the front of the classroom, her feet on the desk.

Leaf Green herself.

"Yeah? What?" Misty said, her voice suddenly sharp. Something about Leaf made it sound as if she were challenging her.

Leaf said nothing at first, but then brought her feet down onto the floor and stood up, walking toward her, her long brown hair cascading behind her. She leaned against the wall beside Misty. "Clemont, close the door. No need to keep holding it open, now that she's inside," Leaf ordered in an exasperated voice.

"Oh, right," Clemont said, chuckling and scratching the back of his head.

"Well?" Misty said impatiently, planting a hand on her hip.

Leaf looked her up and down before connecting her eyes to hers. "You sold me out to Gary."

"Huh?" Misty was taken aback by the sudden accusation.

"You sold me out to Gary, didn't you?" Leaf repeated. There wasn't any anger in her voice, but she said it more as if stating a fact. A fact she did not like.

"Why would you say that?" Misty said warily, wondering how in the world she had figured that out.

"Because she's a genius, in case you don't know," a familiar voice drawled.

Misty turned to the speaker in frustration. It was the very same boy she had been squabbling with not that long ago. "And what are _you_ doing here, Trip?"

"I'm a part of this club, so I have every right to be here," Trip replied, shrugging. He was sitting at a table, a digital camera on the desk, looking through what looked like a stack of various photographs. Misty didn't pay them any attention.

"Club?" Misty repeated, her eyes sweeping through the room.

There was Trip, and Clemont had now gone to a desk as well, where he was working on what looked like some kind of mini-TV with two long antennas. There were others too, like Conway with his eerie grin, seated in a corner desk, focused on a laptop screen while his fingers rapidly danced on the keyboard, and some she did not recognize, like a boy with green hair studiously scribbling down notes from a textbook into a brown notebook. No one was doing the same thing, but they were all heavily engrossed in what they were.

"What, is this like a nerd club or something?" Misty said.

Leaf tilted her head to the side. "You could call it that, if you want. But I didn't invite you here to join it. I called you here because you're tipping off Gary on where to find me."

"You didn't answer my question, you know. About what gives you the impression that your theory's true."

"Because,"—Leaf walked to stand in front of her—"on Tuesday, Gary suddenly asked everyone to vote for you, even though he had shown no sign that he was supporting you prior to then. And ever since, while he hasn't made any big announcements or anything, he has been spreading around that he wants you to be voted for. In just four days, there have been people who've been starting to give you some consideration."

"So? What's your point?"

"My point is, I have nothing against you asking someone for help for your campaign. But I know Gary. And I know he wouldn't be working so hard for free. You guys made a deal."

"So what if we did?"

"Your deal was that you would track me down for him."

Misty snorted, feigning skepticism.

"Stop pretending I'm wrong. The one thing Gary's been desperate to do since the day he found out we're going to the same school was get me to talk to him. It's been failing so far, and to ensure that it would continue failing, I've been making sure I'm nowhere to be found when he's within range."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Leaf rolled her eyes. "Like I said, stop pretending. I _know_ you must have demanded a reason behind his motives to find me, and if he didn't tell you, Ash must have. He's always been Gary's safety net, Ash has been, even though he's never known it. But you wouldn't have agreed to Gary's plan without knowing his reasoning, am I right?"

"I'm lost as to what you're saying."

This time, Leaf ignored her false claim. "So here I am, at the library, reading. Clemont calls me by name, and then suddenly, you start acting funny, and go off into a different aisle. And soon after, I get a text from Conway saying that for some reason, Gary, who had been heading to his car in the parking lot, is rushing back to the school after receiving a text on his phone. And not only that, but after we meet up in this room, Trip says he saw you texting when he was passing by that book aisle you were in. I can put two and two together, Misty Waterflower."

Misty couldn't help but be impressed at how Leaf had deduced all that so easily and quickly. But that didn't get an admittance out of her.

"I text someone, and Conway thinks I texted Gary. So what?"

"Well, I'm not telling you to go back on your deal with Gary," Leaf said, inspecting her nails. "But I would like to make a deal with you as well."

"And what's that?"

"According to your guys' deal, all you need to do is tell Gary where I am whenever you see me, right? Well, you do that, but right after you tell him, text me and inform _me_ about what you told him. That's all you have to do. That way, you don't break your promise and I can continue avoiding him. And you aren't entitled to admit to him about what you're doing either, so he doesn't have to know. Win-win situation."

Misty crossed her arms. "Well, what do I get in return, huh?"

Leaf gestured to the room. " _Our_ support."

Misty frowned. Sure, every vote counted, but this barely seemed like enough. "Okay, first of all, I don't want to force any of you into voting for me. Second, even if all of you _did_ vote for me, this would hardly be enough."

"You don't get it, do you?" Trip spoke up again. "Getting our support doesn't just mean us voting for you. Get us to have your back, and there is no way you could fail in winning the elections. Not only that, it'll benefit you even _after_ you become president."

"He's right, you know," Leaf said. "I know the school. I can take you to the top, Misty Waterflower. I can have your back at every turn. You won't even have to raise a figure after this to win the elections. All you'll have to do is successfully give your speech on Tuesday, and we can even write out the perfect speech for you by Saturday. All I ask is that you help keep Gary out of my way. That's all."

Misty narrowed her eyes. Leaf's offer was a tempting one, but she was making some pretty big claims. Have her win the elections so easily? And with just this small nerd club?

"So if I say yes, you can guarantee my win?" Misty said.

"Naturally."

"What if I say no?"

"Then it'll just be more work for me to stay away from Gary, I suppose. And I'll start avoiding you as well. I _could_ , of course, counter all that support Gary's been giving you and make sure you _don't_ win the elections, but I'm not that kind of a person."

Misty noted how she hadn't said that she _wouldn't_ do that. Was it a threat? Or did she sincerely mean she wouldn't do anything against Misty? It was hard to tell with Leaf's unreadable voice.

"Fine then," Misty said.

"Do we have a deal?" Leaf held out her hand.

Misty hesitated. Finally, she shrugged. "Just keep in mind, I don't want to just lie around while you do all the work," Misty said. "So keep me fully informed on what you plan to do, and you're going to have to get my approval on it. Also, don't do all the work for me. Keep me as involved with the campaigning as you guys are."

"Basically, you're telling me you want to work as well?" Leaf clarified.

"Exactly."

Leaf smirked. "Well, you certainly aren't one of those helpless girls, are ya? Not that it surprises me. Fine then. I'll make sure you do most of the work that you can do on your own. We, on the other hand, will do the fine-tuning. We'll be your campaigning team."

"Sounds good."

"So. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes. Yes we do."

They shook hands.

* * *

Misty wasn't sure why she found herself heading to Paul's house instead of going to her own place. Maybe it was because she was excited and possibly anxious about her agreement with Leaf and wanted to express how she was feeling to someone. Maybe she wanted to stay away from her sisters. Maybe she wanted to properly apologize to Reggie about devastating his carrot garden the last time she had come over two days ago.

Whatever the reason, she soon found herself happily greeting Reggie when he opened the door and then heading up to Paul's room.

"Hello, my glorious eggplant!" she greeted brightly as she strutted into his room.

He was at his desk, sketching something on a sheet of paper, which he hastily flipped over once she entered. He swivelled his chair to face her. "Someone's in a good mood," he commented, leaning his elbow on his desk. His voice, though, was laced with a hint of bitterness.

"Well, today was just more successful than usual," she said, falling back onto his bed with her arms behind her head (to his dismay). "Not that you would care," she added.

"I do care. Because your good mood is leading you to mess up my bed. And I don't like it when you do that. Get off."

"So how are you this lovely day, hm?" Misty said, choosing to ignore his order.

"Horrible, thank you very much. Now get out. I have work to do."

"As do I. But, you know, it might be nice to have a break."

"No it won't. Get out. Don't you have your campaigning to obsess over?"

"You know, I think my moodiness from last time rubbed off on you," Misty said, sitting up. "Why are _you_ so edgy today? I feel like I've barely even seen you for the past two days, since you seem to be disappearing at school lately."

"Because I have work to do. And you're disrupting my concentration. And you're not getting out. That's why."

"Whatcha workin' on?" Misty asked, standing up to walk over. His sketches were all flipped, so it was impossible to see what he'd been making.

Paul gave a scowl that radiated with sourness. "It's not really any of your business, is it?"

"You're only ever this grumpy when you are super-stressed about something. Let me guess: an art contest?"

"No. Like I said, it's none of your business."

"Oh, are you drawing something embarrassing?" Misty teased mercilessly. He always tormented _her_ when she was stressed, so she had every right to return the favour.

"Go away."

"I'm taking that as a yes. Let's see!" She made a dive for one of the papers, but Paul was too fast and slammed his hand onto it so she couldn't turn it over. Not completely, anyways. She did succeed in catching a glimpse of what he was making. Not properly, but just enough to get an idea of what it was.

"Ooooo, you're making a girl!" Misty said loudly while her friend stood up, sending her a vicious glare. "Did you decide to make a princess for that fantasy competition thingy you were talking about?"

"Get out."

"Oh, lighten up." Misty rolled her eyes, walking over to his sculpture-making station where she bent down to inspect the small clay figurines of Pokemon standing in a straight line. She turned back to him. "You know, since I, unlike you, am actually a good, helpful friend, I am going to ask if there is anything you want me to do—other than leave—that would bring down your ferocious attitude?"

Paul continued glaring at her, sitting back down on his chair. Finally, he sighed, crossing his arms. "A favour."

"Oh?" Misty hadn't thought that he would actually want something from her. "What kind of favour?"

"A return-a-book-that-belongs-to-someone-else-that-accidentally-ended-up-with-me kind of favour."

"You accidentally took someone else's book?" Misty said in disbelief. "But you're so organized. You _never_ mix up your things."

"I don't," Paul said. "But two days ago, I dropped all my things—courtesy of that May-girl—and then another girl took the liberty of tripping over my fallen pencil and making it rain pink on me."

"...What?"

"Doesn't matter. Point is, at some point, I ended up grabbing her book and she might have gotten mine."

"So why don't you go return it? Can't find her?"

"Oh, I can find her all right," Paul mumbled. "It's hard not to see her every day, strutting through the halls..."

"So? Why don't you go return it?"

"Because she has a habit of walking surrounded by a flock of people."

"Oh, I get it," Misty snickered. "Just admit it, Paul. You're too embarrassed to go return it!"

"I don't want to walk up to her in the midst of onlookers to return her silly book!" Paul hissed.

"Ah, the disadvantages of being an antisocial jerk," Misty sighed mockingly. "Fine, I'll do it for you... if she doesn't run away screaming from me, that is. Like you say, after all, pretty much half the school is terrified of me. So where's the book?"

Paul reached into his open bag, which was sitting at the foot of his desk. He pulled out a bright pink book and tossed it to Misty in a hurried manner, as if afraid it would turn his hand pink if he held on to it any longer. Misty caught it on reflex, and looked at the cover. Then, she burst out laughing.

"What?" Paul snapped.

"It's _pink_! No wonder it's stressing the life out of you!"

"Shut up and get out."

"Sure, Paul, sure." Misty rolled her eyes, about to leave. She stopped at the doorway.

"Hey Paul," she said. "You never told me whose it is. Maybe you can show me in the yearbook or something."

"There's no need for that. You know who she is."

"Who?"

"That sickeningly bubbly bluenette."

"You lost me."

"Dawn."

"Dawn?" Misty was treated to a sudden shock. Dawn? As in the girl who hated her guts at the moment? Every part of her hoped it wasn't true, that she wouldn't have to go return the book to _her_ of all people, but Paul's next words caused her heart to drop.

"Yeah. Dawn Berlitz."

* * *

 **Whew! The chapter hath been completed! And now, I must begin the next one! Which will be updated some time after I finish writing it (whenever that may be). Okie, then!  
**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Bye bye for now! Have a great day, and be sure to smile the whole way! :)**


	7. The Posters

**Hello, everyone! Wow, I finished this chapter much earlier than expected.**

 **Okay, then, enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: The Posters  
**

Dawn was lying on her back on her bed's pink bedspread with her head hanging slightly off the edge, her long, navy blue hair cascading to the floor like a gorgeous waterfall. Her arms were stretched out in front of her, her hands holding open a grey book. Her blue eyes were scanning its pages, filled with wonder and admiration for the artist who had created the many sketches within.

"Oh, look at this one, Serena!" she said excitedly to her friend, holding the book open in her friend's direction.

Serena was sitting at Dawn's desk, trying to make a red-beaded bracelet. The two of them were hanging out in Dawn's room, doing nothing in particular. Serena had gone to playing around with Dawn's bracelet-making kit while Dawn was flipping through a certain book she had ended up with by accident.

"Should you really be looking in that?" Serena asked. "It's not really yours, so it isn't right to look in it, you know."

Dawn sighed, lowering her arms and laying the book across her chest. "I know you're right, but it's just so tempting! I mean, imagine a famous celebrity or someone, and they drop their book. It's so tempting just to take a little peek. Besides, it's not like I'm reading his personal diary or anything. These are just rough sketches."

"Still. You should try returning it."

"That's the thing! No matter how much I look for him, I can never find him! I don't know, it's like he's hiding from me or something. And it doesn't really help that we're not in the same grade. Why can't I find him, though? It shouldn't be _that_ hard to track him down. And what's worst, he still hasn't approached _me_ yet. What if he decided not to give back my book?"

"You still don't know if he _really_ has it."

"Yeah, but it's most likely he does. I checked the hallway, and it doesn't look like it's there anymore. It's not in the lost-and-found either. Oh, it was a special drawing book! I can't replace it, and I definitely don't want others looking in it!"

"Then shouldn't you try to refrain from peeking at this grey book? Don't you think its owner feels the same way?"

Dawn sighed. "Yeah, maybe. I just can't help it. But I'll try to return it tomorrow on Monday. If I even find him, that is." She got up and went to her bag, tucking the grey drawing book into it. She then walked over beside Serena, and began picking some beads to make a bracelet as well.

* * *

 **The next day...**

"All right, people!" Misty said in a loud, clear voice. "Now, pay attention!"

"Yes Ma'am!" May and Ash said in unison, standing at alert as Misty stood in front of them.

"Now, as you know," she said, "today is Monday, and tomorrow is Tuesday, and Wednesday is elections day. So these last couple of days _count_! We need to secure victory once and for all!"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Now, don't think you two are the only ones working hard. I am super-thankful, but I don't want you guys to think we're alone in this. We're not. Gary has been helping out too, convincing everyone to vote for me as well, and I have recently made new allies, which is the reason I was in today's school newspaper as someone to be voted for. Although there are some who have decided to lend their support elsewhere"—she gave a cough that strangely sounded like 'Paul'—"I am confident it will not completely bring us down! You hear that? I am planning to win not just for me, but for you guys and the rest of the school as well. Understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"This is my last free lunch before the elections. Tomorrow, I need to do my speech, and the day after, lunchtime is election time. So make today count!"

"Yes Ma'am!"

"Well? Let's get going!"

* * *

"Vote for Misty as president!" May said loudly.

She was standing in a hallway, handing out posters to passing-by students like she'd been doing since Wednesday last week. Unlike her first day on the job, she was no longer going unnoticed. She was successfully attracting the attention of many, including some who were interested. Election day was close, and opposite of how she had felt when Misty had first asked her, she was completely submerged in her mission to get Misty as many votes as possible.

It was due to Drew that the flame had been sparked. That day when Drew had arrived, taunting her, making her doubt Misty, it had caused a fire to ignite. May had been adamant in her insistence that Misty was worth supporting since then. And she was going to make sure she made that clear. She felt so motivated!

"Vote for—" May started to call out, but stopped. Someone was standing in front of her, an arrogant smirk on his face, his arms folded.

"You still on your campaigning quest?" he said, looking amused.

"What do you want, Drew?" May said rudely. "I'm pretty sure your locker isn't anywhere in sight right now. Unless you switched or something, which is unlikely."

"No," Drew said, shrugging and leaning against the wall beside her. "Just find it funny that you're still trying to get that red-head in as president."

"And what's so funny about that, huh?"

"Nothing." He chuckled. "So tell me, why do you say I should vote for Misty?"

"If you're here to mock me, I suggest you get lost."

"I'm just asking. Isn't that what you should do when you campaign? Tell people _why_ they should vote for someone?"

"Hah! Like you're actually planning to listen to me."

"Who knows? I've actually been thinking about it, and the only reason Rudy was first on my list was because he's first on _everyone's_ list. But you're saying I should consider Misty. But why should I consider her if I know nothing about her? So I decided to ask you. Why do you think I should vote for Misty?"

May narrowed her eyes suspiciously. He was just mocking her, right? But what if he were serious? If that were the case, she couldn't deny him an explanation.

"Okay," she said. "Well, Misty will be a better president than Rudy because she's someone who'll do the job properly and carry out with her promises. She has ideas and plans, and everything she wants to do, it's for the school, not for popularity or reputation. She's just not a lying, lazy type of person. I mean, I know she has a scary repute, but when she first told me who she was, I couldn't believe it. She just seemed so nice. Sure, if you get her angry, she has a temper, but she's not a bad person, and she's trying her best to improve the school for everyone."

"So do you want me to just vote for her out of pity or something? Tell me the kind of things she has planned."

May boldly handed him one of the posters she had in her hands. "I think this will be informative in that regard."

The posters Misty had brought today were different from her previous ones. They were nothing like those bland, 'Vote for Misty' posters. These were a lot more colourful, and had plenty of points on them, including what she had in mind, such as school events and bake sales. May suspected someone else must have helped her out with them, since the style had changed so dramatically.

"Hm. This is different from the one you… _gave_ me last time," Drew commented, his eyes scanning the sheet May had handed to him.

"Yeah, it is," May said, unsure of what else to say.

Drew looked thoughtful for a moment. "Hey, were you there when Gary was making that announcement about Misty last week?" he asked suddenly.

May cocked her head confusedly. "What announcement?"

Drew chuckled. "I'll take that as a no, then. Anyways, I wasn't there either, but according to some people, he gave some pretty good points about Misty, and putting what I heard he said together with what she says she'll do on this poster, well, it seems… realistic. Her as president _might_ not be a bad thing."

May blinked. Was Drew, _the arrogant Drew Hayden_ , sincerely considering giving Misty his vote?

Drew shrugged. "You know, Rudy's fine and all, but I do wonder what Misty has planned. I mean, if it's completely disastrous, I'm pretty sure everyone could convince the teachers to switch presidents or something. But I'm curious."

"So you'll vote for her?" May said hesitantly.

"I'll see. But you know, there should be more people than just you handing out posters."

"There are. There's also Misty's friend, Ash, and Gary's doing something too, and, of course, Misty herself is on the job."

"Still doesn't seem like enough. Maybe one more person would do?" To her surprise, Drew suddenly and unexpectedly took a small stack of posters from her hand. "I'll get started in another hall," he said, smirking at her stunned expression. He flipped his hair and walked off, May goggling after him.

 _Wait… what just happened?_

* * *

"Hey, everyone! Vote for Misty, 'kay? You know, Misty Waterflower? The one who's gonna take this school to the top? Yeah, her! So make sure you give her your vote this Wednesday!"

There was Ash, standing in the middle of the hallway, cheering like an idiot as he forced poster after poster at passing-by students with a goofy grin on his face, clueless to the fact that almost everyone he was 'convincing' was only taking posters to get away from him as soon as possible. Leaf rolled her eyes. Ash never changed, did he?

She was watching him from the corner of the hallway, leaning against the wall, a few books in her arms. Finally, the chance she was waiting for came. All the posters had now been given away, and Ash, looking proud of his accomplishment, was starting to leave his position. As smoothly as a Persian, she strode over to him and tapped his shoulder.

"Yeah?" Ash said, whirling around to face the one who had contacted him. When his eyes met Leaf's though, he froze and blinked in surprise before beaming brightly. "Leaf! Hey, long time no see! I mean, I did see you a while back, but not for at least a week!"

"Yeah," Leaf said, rolling her eyes. "Ash, could I talk to you?"

"Well, that's what you're doing right now, aren't you?"

"I mean in private."

"Huh? Sure thing!"

"Fine. Then follow me."

She began walking towards a classroom with Ash following behind, and once they reached it, she pulled out a key from her pocket to unlock the door.

"Hey, where'd you get that key? I don't think students are allowed to have classroom keys."

"Ash, just go with it."

The two of them slipped inside, and Leaf closed the door behind them.

"So, what did you want to tell me?" Ash asked curiously.

"You're helping with Misty's campaigning, right?"

"Yeah! You vote for her too, okay?"

"Sure, Ash, sure. So from what I've been told, you're her lab partner in chemistry, right? And you have the same homeroom as her, so I'm sure I'm right to presume that's how you two got acquainted."

"Well, actually, we met when I sorta ruined her bike."

"So are you helping her because you have to pay for that?"

Ash looked at her strangely. "No, it's because we're friends."

"Hm." Leaf studied his face with her sharp eyes. "Right, then. So were you the one who asked Gary to help as well?"

"Yeah, I was. How did you know?"

"Never mind that. So Ash, you probably know about that deal Gary and Misty made, right?"

"Yeah. Hey, how did you know they made a deal?"

"Just answer my questions, okay? So let me ask you: did you make a deal with Gary as well?"

"Huh? Why would we make a deal?"

"Because Gary wouldn't just listen to what you say without wanting something from you in return. He wouldn't just agree to going to talk to Misty unless he could get you to do something for him as well. But judging from your reaction, you two didn't make any deals, correct?"

"Of course not!" Ash held himself up proudly. "I know Gary used to use me a lot like that when we were little, but now, I don't let him trick me anymore! I mean, we did make a deal—that I would get his confiscated phone for him so he would meet up with Misty—but I wasn't doing that to benefit him. It was for Misty's sake."

Leaf felt like face-palming. "Ash, when Gary makes you do things like that for him, it's called taking advantage of you. I'm guessing he gets you to help out with some things, like when he had you hold the posters for him for that announcement thing he did last week, because he says they're to help Misty out, correct?"

"But those don't count! Those actually _are_ to help Misty!"

Leaf sighed. There was no way she'd been able to get through his thick head. But at least she now knew Gary hadn't put him up to the same task as Misty. That would have been a bit problematic, seeing as the more people Gary had doing the search-for-Leaf job, the harder it would be for her to go unnoticed. She would have to rethink her strategy for their little game if that were to happen, but she was still confident she could win it no matter what.

"Fine. Whatever," she said, starting to head to the door. "Later, then."

"Okay, bye!" Ash followed her out and began heading down a separate hallway. "And don't forget to vote for Misty!"

Leaf gave a lazy wave and went on her way.

* * *

"Aw, lunch is nearly over!" Dawn said, pouting playfully. She turned to the group of girls she had been hanging out with. "I need to get my things for class, 'kay? So I'm going to go to my locker to get my things. Later!"

"Sure, Dawn!"

"See you later, Dawn!"

"Bye bye!"

Dawn waved after them as they left to retrieve their own belongings. "Bye, Duplica! Bye, Angie! Bye Mira! Bye Macy! Bye Zoey! Bye everyone!"

All the girls surrounding her soon left, with the only one remaining being Serena.

"Well," Dawn said to Serena. "Guess we should go to our lockers and get our stuff. Lunchtime should end in a bit."

"Yeah," Serena said.

The two headed to their respective lockers, which were only a few lockers apart. As she began taking out her stuff, Dawn's hand landed on the grey book. Paul's book. She still needed to return it to him.

"Hey, Serena," Dawn said. "Do you think there's time for me to take a quick look around and see if I can find Paul anywhere? I still haven't returned his book. And I really want mine back too."

"Hm, there are still five minutes till the lunch-ending bell rings," Serena said. And then after that, you'll only have five minutes to get to class, so we'll really have to really hurry up."

"Hey, no need to worry, I'll be quick!" Dawn said, grinning. "You go ahead to class, and if I'm not there by the time class starts, you can tell the teacher that I'll be there in a few minutes. Just hope I find him!"

"Are you sure? I can come along and help."

"No, I'm sure. I don't want to make you late too, though I don't plan on being late myself. I'll catch up. Bye!"

Before Serena could respond, the blunette was already hurrying down the hallway, hands full of her things for next class and, of course, Paul's grey drawing book.

* * *

Misty sighed as she walked down the hallway, sticking another one of the posters in her arms onto the wall. It wasn't a sigh of unhappiness or even relief. Just… tiredness.

She was tired. She had been working hard all weekend. Yes, she had told Leaf to make sure they didn't do _all_ the work, but it seemed that the work they were giving her was much more exhausting than what she'd been doing up until now.

The 'nerd club' (as Misty called it) used a certain email that all the members had access to for when they wanted to send something to everyone in the club or see what messages the club as a whole received. It was a clever and convenient method, as, instead of having to send every member something, all Misty had to do was send one email to 'The Watchers' (that was what the email said their name was) and know that everyone from the club could go onto the account and get the message.

Unfortunately, it was more The Watchers who were sending emails to her. Since Friday after school, Misty had been receiving email after email from them, and she knew it wasn't the same person messaging her every time. They were all working together to instruct her on what to do. And not all of them specified who was the one sending the email. For instance, Leaf would sign her message off as 'Leaf' after everything she sent, but most of the email-senders were unknown. Though she could tell when Trip was the one sending something to her from his manner of writing and constant use of the word 'basic'.

They had started off by pestering her into sending them an essay about what her hopes and plans were after becoming president. Not necessarily a formal or well-polished one (thankfully) but one that made her intentions clear. Misty had to write out and send them at least three, because they kept insisting she wasn't giving them enough information. And, for some unknown reason, they kept nagging her to send them a decent picture of herself, the most recent she could get. Misty gave up questioning them when they didn't explain, and with much difficulty, managed to find a satisfactory picture.

Misty soon discovered the purpose for their doing so. They used what she had sent them to make better posters that presented the looker with details about her plans in such a way that made her appear to be a favourable candidate.

Then, as promised, they sent her an amazingly written speech on Saturday based on what she had told them.

The purpose for her picture was discovered as well when Misty came to school after the weekend to find that she was on the front cover of the school newspaper with an article written about her which included much of what she had mentioned in her essays.

And Misty was thankful. There was no way she could have come this far over the course of one weekend without their help. The one thing that was bothering her, though, was the speech. It sounded like what would win everyone over, but… somehow, it just didn't feel like _her_. The speech was supposed to be what she wanted to tell everyone, but the fact that someone else had written it somehow made it feel… empty.

It was one of the things that was keeping Misty up until late at night. Homework, studying, worrying about her campaigning, and the speech. She had to practise it, which was what she was desperately trying to do, but she just couldn't feel connected to the words she spoke no matter how much she tried.

And now, she was so close to the election day. She had to make her speech tomorrow, but she felt so unprepared. And if she didn't communicate her views and thoughts properly, everything would have been for nothing. Everything. Everything she was doing, everything her friends and allies were doing. Everything.

She was beyond stressed. In fact, she wasn't even sure she could call her condition stress anymore. It was more of a hopelessness that she didn't even have the strength to fight. How she felt on the inside, it was contrary to the enthusiasm she expressed to Ash and May on the outside. Maybe she felt that there was a lot more to lose now. Maybe that was why she felt so overwhelmed. And, ironically, it was everyone's help that was meant to ensure her victory that was creating the pressure that could lead to her downfall.

Misty barely saw the poster she was sticking to the wall. She looked behind her to see she had reached the end of the hallway and had made sure to stick plenty of posters on the walls behind her. There was still some time before the bell would ring. Probably about a minute or two. But she could probably stick a few more before then. Who knew? Maybe even one poster could make a difference.

She walked around the corner, into the next hall. To her dismay, though, when she tried to find an empty spot, she found there wasn't much space. It looked like someone else had taken the liberty of sticking posters everywhere in this hallway.

Huffing, Misty scanned the area. The walls were all adorned with similar posters, probably for the same person. They all had a picture of a girl—

 _Wait._

 _What._

Misty slowly walked up to one of the posters to take a proper look. Her breath got caught in her throat.

 _No way. Who...?_

The posters were of her. They were hand sketches that seemed to be photocopied, each depicting a magnificently done detailed sketch of Misty herself in side view. Then, either horizontally along the bottom or vertically along one side, there were words. Or rather, a name. Misty Waterflower. Just Misty Waterflower. No telling anyone to vote for her or anything like that. Just her name. It was as if saying, 'This is who Misty is,' rather than demanding that she be voted for.

And the way she was drawn, Misty couldn't think of it looking any more like her. And there was a look on her face. A look that cast a positive light upon her. What was that look? Stubbornness? No…

Determination.

At first, Misty thought someone from Leaf's club must have made these posters. But she felt like she had seen this style of drawing before. And then she saw it. The little telltale signature at the very bottom corner of the posters, made so small it almost seemed like the artist didn't want it to be noticed.

The signature initial P. S.

 _Paul Shinji_.

Paul? Why had Paul made posters of her? Hadn't he been acting as if he didn't care, as if he were betting she would lose? Misty felt a memory flash back to her from Friday. The picture Paul had been sketching, the one he hadn't wanted her to see. She had glimpsed it. It had been of a girl.

It had been of _her_.

Misty stared at the posters, stupefied. She didn't know how to react. She had never expected this, not in a million years. Paul had been supporting her from the start. And he drew her with a kind of glow Misty wanted to reflect. Paul had drawn her determined because, no matter how he had mocked her, that was how he truly viewed her. This was how he saw her, not as someone who was campaigning in vain, but someone unwavering. The artist could lie but his art could not.

"Wow," someone breathed. Misty turned to where the voice had come from. Someone was standing not far from where she was, staring at one of the posters Paul had made.

Someone who was unmistakably Dawn Berlitz.

She was standing there, rooted in place, transfixed to the drawing.

"Do you know who made these?" she asked quietly, her eyes still glued to the picture. Misty knew she was talking to her. There was no one else there.

"Yeah. My friend, Paul," Misty answered hesitantly.

Dawn slowly turned toward Misty, then back at the poster. "Paul made these," she murmured. "He draws so well. It looks just like you." She seemed both amazed and confused. It was as if the positive light Paul had made her in was at war with the negative view Dawn had held so far.

"Yeah," Misty said, unsure of what else to say. Somehow, all that contempt Dawn had felt towards her had vanished. The atmosphere didn't hold the same kind of tenseness Misty felt whenever Dawn was within sight. Normally, whenever they passed each other in the hallway these days, they avoided looking each other in the face, and Dawn would march right past her with a kind of indignant aura about her. But right now, all of those feelings had melted away.

"Listen," Misty found herself saying suddenly. "I want to talk to you about something."

 _What am I saying?_ Misty tried to figure out. What did she want to talk to Dawn about?

"Yeah?" Dawn said quietly, turning back towards her.

"It's about Tuesday last week. Remember, when Gary was with his microphone, announcing to everyone that they should vote for me."

 _Oh, right,_ Misty realized. She wanted to apologize for what Gary had claimed. The guilt of it had been eating away at her mind for so long. She wasn't a bad person; she hadn't meant for any of that to happen.

Dawn listened silently.

"I never asked Gary to do that. Gary said he would help me out with my campaigning, but that announcing thing was out of the blue. And you can be sure I gave him a good earful afterwards about _not_ dissing Rudy anymore. I'm not asking you to vote for me; I just want to explain that I never wanted him to do that. I don't think Rudy's a bad person, and I don't want to paint him as such either. So, yeah. I just wanted to apologize for what he said. It's been bothering me, so… yeah."

The two girls faced each other wordlessly, their eyes connected. The silence between them seemed to last a thousand years, but even without words, something was being communicated. Misty just wasn't sure what. Maybe it was… understanding.

The silence was abruptly broken when the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch break.

"Well, that's the bell," Misty said finally, finding an excuse to turn around and start walking off. "Guess I should head to class now."

"Wait," Dawn spoke up. Misty stopped mid-step and turned to face her. Dawn let out a sigh.

"I guess… I should say sorry too. I was just angry and judged you too quickly. Rudy's my friend, and… well, after hearing what Gary said, I don't know, I just felt like you were to blame. It doesn't make sense and isn't really fair, but… I don't know."

"So… we're good?"

"Yeah, I guess." Dawn glanced at the poster, and then turned back to Misty, smiling. "Paul sure is a great artist, huh? My art teacher's always showing us his artwork."

"Yeah, he is." Misty felt herself starting to become lighter. Something was making her feel so… released….

"You know, I do see the posters you put up. The new ones you've been putting up today too. And you do have some pretty good ideas. Truth is, I do think Rudy is the best candidate, but sometimes I wonder: am I voting for him just because he's a friend? What if someone else has just as much potential?"

"So are you saying you'll vote for me?" Misty said before she could stop herself. She felt like hitting herself right after. She wasn't supposed to ask that right after they had formed a truce!

"I don't know. I'll see." She turned back to the posters, and Misty felt compelled to as well.

"Oh yeah!" Misty remembered something suddenly. "You lost something last week, didn't you? A pink book?"

"Yeah!" Dawn turned to Misty hurriedly. "My book! I thought I switched with Paul by accident, but from what you're saying…"

"No, you did switch with Paul. That guy's just too antisocial to come give it to you himself, so he gave it to me to return it for him. Wasn't sure how I would do any better than him, though."

"You guys didn't look in it, did you?"

"Not me. I'm not into diaries and gossip and stuff. And I doubt Paul did either, since he's not the kind of guy to get into other people's business. Plus, it was like he didn't want to even touch something so pink!" She chuckled when she remembered how Paul had been regarding the book with pure abhorrence.

Dawn laughed. "Well, that's a relief, though it isn't really a diary. Still private, though. Oh, and I have his drawing book too. We switched by accident or something. And I might have sort of peeked in it, but I don't think there was anything embarrassing or overly private in it, so hopefully he wouldn't get mad. But just in case, don't tell him, though."

"I don't have your book with me just now," Misty said. "But I can give it back to you later. Maybe when we run into each other next time. Or at lunch in the cafeteria, though I won't be there tomorrow because I have to give my speech."

"Oh, no need to worry. At least I know it's with you, so you'll be much easier to find than Paul. I can never figure out where he is." Dawn looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, I think I want to give Paul's book back to him in person. You know anywhere I would be able to find him?"

"Well, he's sometimes in the cafeteria at lunch. Or else, I only run into him when we're heading to the same class or something. Or when I go to his house, but I don't think you'll be going all the way to his house to return a book."

"Oh, okay. I'll see if I can't catch him in the cafeteria some time. WAIT! I totally forgot! Class should be about to start!"

Misty's eyes widened. "Oh right! I don't even have my things with me! Later, gotta rush!"

"Bye!"

The two began hurrying in their separate ways. But as Misty hastened, her mind reflected back on the posters Paul had made. A new wave of willpower washed through her, flooding her mind and clearing away the pressure she had been feeling earlier.

 _I can do this. I can do this!_

And she knew exactly what to do about her speech.

* * *

 **Ce chapitre est fini maintenant. Merci beaucoup pour le lire! (This chapter is finished now. Thank you very much for reading!)**

 **Bye bye for now! Have a great day and smile all the way! :)**


	8. Convinced?

**Hello, readers of this story! Here is the next chapter!  
**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

 _ **Reply to guest review :**_

 _ **Joe : Hi! Thanks so much for the review, and I'm glad you like this! I'm planning to develop each of the characters, including Serena, though it may not happen until later. As for Brock, I might be able to have him make a cameo at some point, though I'm not sure when. Thanks again!**_

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Convinced?  
**

Misty never thought she would ever dread the approaching lunch bell. And yet, here she was, sitting in her desk doing exactly that. It was Tuesday, after all. And that meant she would have to do her speech soon.

Misty shut her eyes tight as the class-ending peal exploded in her ear. She was deaf to the hubbub of the surrounding students who were getting up and spurting through the doors, not even waiting for the teacher to dismiss them. All she could think of was when her name would be called to summon her to the front of a swarm of judging peers, all of whom she would have to win over with her speech, the one she had written from scratch just the night before.

She was nervous. She hated admitting it to herself, but no matter what, she couldn't deny it. She was nervous. And it didn't help that she had scrapped the speech Leaf's club had written out for her, one that was objectively better.

 _But,_ she reminded herself, _no matter how a speech is written, it all depends on the speaker. What good is a speech if the speaker doesn't communicate her beliefs with the audience properly? You've got this, Misty!_

Taking a deep breath, she got up and walked out into the hallway towards her locker.

"Hey, Mist!"

She turned at the sound of Ash's voice, who was running up to her excitedly. "Oh, hello, Ash," she said.

 _Wait, since when has he been calling me 'Mist'?_

"You nervous?" he said, grinning as he stopped beside her.

"Why? Do I look nervous?"

"Nah, just asking. Hey, I was thinking, maybe while you're doing your speech, I could hand out some more posters for you. You know, since I'm already planning to vote for you, I don't need to be there, so might as well do something useful, ya know? Convince some more people to vote for you and stuff."

Misty was taken aback. Ash's offer was just so… selfless and considerate.

"Thanks, Ash," she said, smiling. "But actually, I think you and May should take a break. You two have been working hard enough, so you guys relax and have lunch. And Gary too. Could you tell that to the both of them for me?"

"What, really?" Ash goggled at her. "Wow, you must be really nervous if you're so calm. Normally, you'd be jumping down our throats, but today, you're just so soft-spoken." He frowned. "Wait, that doesn't make sense. Being calm when you're nervous…."

Misty couldn't help but give a light laugh. Under normal circumstances, this would have either annoyed her or flared her temper, but right now, for some reason, it didn't. Ash was just being himself. Thickheaded, dense, but himself, and, for the first time, his childishness didn't feel irritating.

"Whoa! Okay, there must seriously be wrong if you're laughing like that. Usually by this time, you'd be yelling at me for being an idiot or something."

"Ash, just go tell the others, alright? You guys do whatever you like at lunch, because from this day on, I think I can manage by myself. After all, all I need to do is the speech. If no one accepts it, well, it'll probably mean I won't get the votes I need. So handing out posters and all that, we've done as much as we can in that department. Now all we gotta do is hope some actually got through to people."

"Well, if that's what you think…" Ash scratched the back of his head. He then turned back to her with his usual goofy grin. "Hey, so good luck, Mist!"

"Thanks." She watched him disappear into the crowd. Ash really wasn't bad. Why had he seemed so annoying to her in the first place? But that wasn't what she was pondering at the moment.

 _Seriously, since **when** has he been calling me 'Mist'?_

* * *

The speeches were to take place at the auditorium, where the debate club competitions were usually held. Today, seats were slowly filling while the president candidates occupied the chairs left of the stage.

Misty was sitting there as well, her hands clenched around her notes, her sea green eyes scanning the ocean of increasing students. She had not even gone to the cafeteria for lunch, as the speakers were supposed to be there on time and Misty didn't want to risk running late. She had snacked on a small apple beforehand, so as to prevent her stomach from grumbling at an inconvenient time but, truth be told, she wasn't feeling particularly hungry at the moment.

Her eyes travelled to the clock. It was time.

"Up first is… Rudy Prince. Please welcome him to the front!"

Rudy stood from his seat at the announcer's words. But before he headed onto stage, he faced Misty, to the latter's stupefaction. "Wish me luck," he said, giving her a wink and heading onstage without waiting for a response.

Misty blinked, dumbfounded. He was asking his rival for luck… why exactly? Was it mockery; was he trying to show her that he didn't think of her as competition, but instead as just anyone he could ask for for luck? But then why didn't he address the other three president-hopefuls (who were staring after him with a 'Hey, we exist too, you know!' look on their faces)? And he sounded sincere as well….

Misty zoned out of Rudy's speech. It was how they all were; all it did was talk about why everyone should vote Rudy, and his vow that he would carry out with his promises. The other three president candidates were either looking nervous, listening to Rudy's words, or zoned out as well.

She found herself searching the crowd for Paul's head of purple hair out of habit, but couldn't locate it. He probably hadn't showed up. He didn't like crowded places after all. She hadn't had a chance to talk to him to thank him for (or rather, tease him about) his support for her. Yesterday after lunch, she had only had one more class with him, and they had had a test that same class, making conversation impossible. And after that, it had been like he had simply vanished. She hadn't even had the chance to call him last night, as working on her speech had been keeping her too busy.

Before she knew it, the audience was applauding Rudy as he headed offstage. Was he done already? It sure looked like it. They were supposed to take at maximum two minutes per speech, but this had felt like two seconds!

The next candidate was called up, and after that, the next. And then…

"Next up, we have Misty Waterflower!"

Misty felt an electric jolt sear through her stomach, but she succeeded in convincing her feet to stand up and start walking.

"Good luck, Waterflower," Misty heard Rudy say as she walked past.

 _What's with him? Why is he acting supportive?_

Misty found herself standing onstage, waiting for the clapping to die down. She was honestly surprised that she was getting an applause at all, but that might have simply been because the audience was supposed to. Besides, it wasn't nearly as loud as Rudy's, so, evidently, it wasn't like she were popular or anything.

Someone caught her eye in the crowd. Ash was sitting amongst the others, clapping enthusiastically. Once they made eye contact, he gave her a double thumbs up. Beside him was May, who waved to her openly.

 _They came?_ Misty found herself thinking. Why would they come? They were already going to vote for her, so there was no need for them to come over and listen to her speech. Her speech was to convince people, but Ash and May didn't need convincing.

It was for support, she suddenly realized. They were here as friends for support. Paul usually found that needlessly going somewhere just for a friend was a waste of time, so while Misty never got offended by his absence, she wasn't used to having people show up for her just for encouragement. She was always so used to doing everything independently, carrying her own weight, but this, this felt nice. A hint of a smile crept to her lips.

And then, at the very back, she could spot Gary. Well, he was her ally in this, so he probably wanted to see what she could do. And behind him, right behind him in the shadows, Misty could see Leaf, watching her analytically. But the fact that Gary could probably detect her if he just turned around was amusing. A part of her wanted to call out and tell him, but even if she did, the chances of him hearing her were probably close to zero at the moment.

Besides, right now, she had to focus on nothing but her speech.

Misty took a deep breath to steady herself and confidently faced the audience, making sure to greet her onlookers with a smile. And then, she began.

"First of all, before I begin, I want to thank all of you for being here. Maybe it wasn't because you specifically wanted to hear my speech. Maybe it was because you were here to support a different president candidate. But nevertheless, I'm grateful. I don't want to force any of you to like me, or agree with all my ideas and views; all I want is for you guys to hear me out. Whomever you vote for in the end, it's all up to you, and the purpose of my speech today is not to say your decision to vote for anyone other than me is wrong. I am Misty Waterflower. I am not going tell you all why you should vote for me, but what I _am_ going to explain is why I believe you should vote for a student council president in the first place."

Misty's eyes briefly landed on Leaf for a moment, and she saw that Leaf had a puzzled look on her face. It was clear that she knew this wasn't the speech her club had created. Misty's eyes flickered away from her and she continued.

"So what makes a president better or more favourable? My answer: nothing. Presidents aren't superior or anything. They're just… themselves. Individual people, like the rest of us. We all have our own views and ideas and thoughts and motives. A president is no different. I mean, take a look at all the president posters around the school. Now take off the 'vote for' part, so it just says the name. And all of a sudden, you aren't being told to do anything. You just see the person, the individual, a fellow student. And in all truth, that's all we are."

Her voices was slowly becoming louder and clearer, brimming with confidence.

"Why even get a president, then? If all we are are the same as everyone else, why vote for someone? It's because we need a spokesperson. If all of us students try to convince a teacher or the school board of something, they won't be able to understand so many people at once. The president's job is to voice all of us. The president's job is to _listen_ to what every single person is saying, and voice that. The president isn't just doing what he or she thinks is best for the school; the president is doing what the _student population_ thinks is best for the school. Because who knows the school better than the students who attend it? Only one person—the president—is not the voice of the school. Everyone is, and the president needs to listen to everything everyone says and act according to that.

"So what I'm saying is that the result of the elections tomorrow, they aren't going to be random. They are going to be what we, the students, decided on. Who we decided would be the best spokesperson, the best listener. Because all the president candidates are are people who are willing to give up their personal time to listen to the thoughts and opinions of everyone else. I am willing to listen and that's what I want to tell all of you by running for president. I am not under the illusion that solely I know what's best for the school.

"So don't decide on who you vote for according to popularity, or looks, or bribery, or fancy posters, or who you like or don't like, or anything like that. Choose according to who will listen. Choose according to who is willing to hear you all out, to give a voice to your opinion. Choose according to who will be the best president. Because the best president is the one who is best reflects the rest of the school.

"That's all I wanted to say. Thank you."

Misty took a steady breath as she concluded her speech. It was silent at first, but those few seconds of quiet felt like a millennia. She could feel her confidence being nibbled away by anxiety. She needed some kind of response from her audience. But there was nothing.

And then there was.

Someone was clapping. And then, another was. It became clear who the applauders were when Misty's eyes travelled to them. Ash and May smiled supportively back at her, bringing their hands together loudly. And not long after them, a few others joined in. Gary, and—to Misty's shock—Rudy as well. It wasn't long before the entire auditorium was clapping. It wasn't loud or boisterous like it had been for Rudy, but it was enough.

Misty gave a small polite bow and left the stage, satisfied.

* * *

Misty hadn't realized it before, but she was hungry. Apparently, the apple hadn't been enough, and although her stomach hadn't grumbled, it still ached with a desire to be filled. And that was why, once the speeches had ended, seeing that there were still seven minutes until lunch break ended, Misty was heading for the cafeteria.

"Hey, Mist!" Ash called out, catching her attention. She turned around at Ash's voice to see both him and May running up to her.

"Hey," she said, smiling at the two. "Thanks for sticking around for my speech you guys."

"Well, of course we would!" Ash said, grinning widely. "Why not?"

"Yeah, it was great too," May added.

"Thanks, but I just hope everyone else felt that way too," Misty said, frowning slightly. She wasn't sure if it had the effect she'd been hoping for. After all, she hadn't even used the speech Leaf's club had made for her.

And just as she thought that, she caught Leaf leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway, staring at her. She closed her spring green eyes, shook her head slightly, and disappeared amongst the swarm of students. Misty felt an intense discomfort in the pit of her stomach. Did Leaf think she had just ruined her chance of winning by not going along with the planned speech?

"Hey, you hungry?" Ash said suddenly, snapping Misty out of her musing.

"Wha'?"

"Well, you went straight to the auditorium so quickly, you didn't even stop at the cafeteria! So I was wondering if you even had lunch."

"Yes!" May exclaimed. "Let's go eat!"

"But didn't you already eat, May?" Ash said, frowning.

"Well, I didn't have seconds," May justified.

"You're right!" Ash's face lit up. "I didn't either! Come on, Mist! Let's go eat!"

Misty stared after the two exasperatedly as they sped off in the cafeteria's direction. Then she smiled to herself and shook her head. Those two, they'd been a lot of help for the past two weeks. They were both pretty dense, yes, and they did get on her nerves because of their idiocy from time to time, but hey, she had every reason to be thankful that they'd had her back through it all.

She followed them to the cafeteria where she could see the both of them at the cafeteria counter, making their purchases. She was about to join them, but something else caught her eye. Or rather, someone. She made her way over to a table, the table where she usually sat, where someone was sitting quietly by himself.

"Hey, Paul!" Misty said cheerfully. "Feels like I haven't seen you in forever."

"We're in the same homeroom, and had some of the same classes as well this morning," Paul muttered, lazily glancing up at her. His hands were leisurely peeling a mandarine, and an lunch tray with an untouched lunch was resting on the table in front of him.

Misty sat down at the table, shrugging. "My mind was sort of occupied with, oh, I don't know, stress about my speech. Which you didn't attend." She playfully punched his shoulder. "But I shouldn't be saying anything, because if it weren't for you, I might have miserably failed up there onstage."

"Because you felt like doing a good speech to make me regret not coming so you did and didn't fail," Paul said bluntly as if it were the truth.

"No." Misty rolled her eyes. "I'm talking about the posters. They were… nice. So I got more motivated." Yeah. There was no way she was going to tell him they inspired her and she based her whole speech on how they made her feel. She was too stubborn.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Paul said in a monotone voice, popping a piece of his mandarine into his mouth.

"I know you made them. I mean, you even _signed_ them. Seriously, did you put them up thinking I wouldn't see them? I've been going around the whole school trying to take every empty spot for my posters, so it shouldn't be a surprise that I came across those posters of yours at one point."

"Hn?" Paul's blank, neutral expression would have convinced anyone. Except Misty. But since it was obvious he wasn't going to admit it, she decided to change topic. Her eyes landed on the lunch tray.

"You haven't even touched your lunch, other than the orange. Were you waiting for me or something? Or are you under the notion that the cafeteria food has been poisoned today?"

Paul looked at the lunch tray for a moment before pushing it in front of her. "You owe me twenty bucks," he said, his eyes on the mandarine he was eating.

Misty stared at the tray for a moment before realizing that he hadn't bought it for himself. He had bought it for _her_. It was the second nice thing he had done for her that week. "Okay, I'm getting concerned now," she said. "Are you feeling okay? Why did you buy me lunch? It's almost as if you knew I wouldn't eat, so you acted _considerate_ or something. But I know that's impossible."

"It's because you get cranky when you're hungry and that leads to an annoyed me. It's only consideration for myself. Besides, you owe me."

"Of course," she said, rolling her eyes. "Wait a minute, why twenty bucks? It only costs about five dollars."

"For profit."

"What for? All you did was buy it!"

"One, for buying it. Two, for bringing it to the table. Three, for saving it. And four, for giving it to you."

"I never asked you to!"

"Things in life happen without your consent."

"We're not talking about life! We're talking about you overcharging your services!"

"Not from where I stand. I already told you why it's so expensive."

"Well, too bad, 'cause I'm not gonna pay!"

"Then I'm taking the lunch back. You get in the line at the counter or something."

"Ugh! You know what? I'm going to eat this lunch _and_ not pay you!" She vigorously got started on her meal without another word. Paul did nothing to stop her.

"There you are!" Ash said, walking up to the table, May following behind. Each had a lunch tray piled with food. The two of them sat at the table as well and Paul seemed to tense at their arrival.

"Hey, how did you get your lunch before us?" May asked, noting Misty's tray.

Misty shrugged. "Magic," she said nonchalantly.

May's eyes sparkled. "Wow! Why didn't you tell me you had magic powers?"

"It wasn't magic," Ash said. "One of your fans got it for you, right?"

Misty held back her laughter. Paul? A fan? The idea was beyond hilarious. She side-glanced to where Paul was sitting—or had been sitting, at least. He wasn't there anymore. Misty figured he must have silently left when Ash and May joined them. He didn't like being around a lot of people, and their table _had_ been getting a bit crowded as of late. May had started sitting with them, and now Ash was too.

The bell rang suddenly. Lunch was over, and it was time to get to class. Unfortunately, none of them were done, with May and Ash not even close to being finished.

"Guess we better get to class," Misty said. She was nearly done, so she picked up her sandwich to take it with her.

"You go ahead, we'll catch up," Ash managed to say as he sped through his full tray.

"Mm-hm, yeah!" May affirmed.

Misty gave them an exasperated look but walked off with a secret smile gracing her lips.

* * *

When classes ended that day, for some reason, Misty didn't feel like rushing home to make preparations for tomorrow's campaigning, despite it being election day tomorrow. It was as if by accomplishing her speech, she had done her absolute maximum and couldn't get any more support than that. And because of her unhurried pace, she ended up in the hallway alone, with most of the other students having left already.

She finally tucked her last book into her backpack, but before she zipped it, her eyes landed on a certain pink drawing book. Dawn's. She still hadn't returned it. Maybe tomorrow, then?

"Pst! Misty!"

Misty inwardly groaned when she heard that quiet little call. She recognized it immediately. It was the same voice that had summoned her to Leaf's nerd club on Friday.

"What do you want, Conway?" she snapped, turning to face the direction he was in. And, as expected, he was standing just a step out of the shadows, flashing his glasses so they gave him an even creepier demeanor.

"A certain someone wants to meet with you," he said, smirking unsettlingly.

"If Leaf wants to rebuke me for not using the speech she wanted, she could come do that herself." Misty zipped up her bag and swung it over her shoulder. "I'm not in the mood to stand around and wait for her creepy buddies to come calling me."

"I never told you to go anywhere," Conway said. "I just said she wants to meet with you. I'm here to make sure you don't leave before then. Expect her to show up right about… now."

"Conway, go back to your laptop," a voice drawled. Leaf was walking around the corner, her eyes lazily watching the teenage boy as he chuckled.

"Certainly," he said, sinking into the shadows. "Heh heh heh…" And, just like that, he vanished.

"Well?" Misty turned to Leaf, hand on her hip. "What do you want?"

"I'm just here to give a little update," Leaf said calmly.

"On what?"

"On your chances at winning the elections."

"Look, if you want to say that I ruined it by not using your speech, I don't car—"

"I never said you did," Leaf said, cutting her off. "I said I was here for an update on that. And it wasn't _my_ speech we sent you; it was _our_ speech, as in mine, my club's and yours, since we all worked on it."

"Yeah, whatever. So talk. What did you want to say, 'cause I'd rather be leaving than standing around in this building."

Leaf pursed her lips. "Fine then. Well, it was expected you would have a good chance if you used the speech we gave you, but since you didn't, I had to redo my calculations. And you still seem fine. I think it might have had the same effect on the audience as our speech was expected to. Actually, not the same, but same as in terms of it leaving a positive impression."

Misty released her breath. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding it at all. Maybe, subconsciously, she had been worried about her decision to go against Leaf's plan without telling her. Something in her mind firmly believed that Leaf's strategies and plans could be the basis of her success—if she let them be. But she wanted to do some things herself, even if it meant the result would be entirely unknown if she did.

"Okay, then. Good to know."

"Good luck on the elections tomorrow," Leaf said, heading off, giving a lazy wave as she left.

* * *

 **The next day: Elections Day…  
**

It was time. Time for the elections.

Misty was standing there, watching the voters walk into the library where they would vote who got into student council this year.

And who didn't.

Maybe spending her lunch watching them wasn't the best way to soothe her nerves. Maybe she ought to go to the cafeteria which was bound to be quiet and uncrowded, since everyone was at the elections right now. Maybe she should find out where Ash, May and Paul were, and hang out with them instead.

But she didn't.

Instead, she stood there and watched. Watched them join the line. Watched them walk in. Watched them walk out.

And tomorrow, she would find out just whom everyone voted for.

* * *

Misty was within the depth of serenity.

She was flowing.

Unmoving.

Unbound.

Untroubled.

Serenity.

Finally, she pushed her head out from beneath the surface of the water to breath. Then, she lay back, doing a back-float. Her ears were underwater, so she couldn't hear anything other than the mystic lullabies of the water Pokemon.

School had ended for today, and the first thing she had done was escape to the swimming pool in the gym. The Waterflowers had owned the water-type gym of Cerulean for generations, and, currently, her sisters were the ones running it. Even if they did prefer performing water shows rather than accepting the challenges of professional Pokemon trainers.

Misty had no interest in the water shows despite being forced to participate at times in the past, but the gym's pool was her favourite place to be. There were some tranquil water Pokemon swimming in it, it was quiet, and, best of all, she got to relax in the water.

The water. It was where she wished she could spend all her time in, whether free swimming, competing, cooling off, or calming her spirits of fury or nervousness. It was her escape. Unfortunately, swimming pools did not exist in every location in the city. But here, in the gym, she could relax all she wanted. She hadn't been getting enough chances to swim these days, especially with all the extra work she had to do for the campaigning. But right now, she could just relax.

Wash away her anxiety.

Wash away the nervousness.

Wash away the stress.

Just…

…relax.

* * *

 **The next day…  
**

It was crowded. Misty tried pushing through the crowd in front of the bulletin board, the one announcing who was on the student council.

Whoever didn't get in had the opportunity to stand as class representative (the votes for those were held in each class today), and then tomorrow, there would be an assembly in which Principal Lance would announce the student council for the year.

But Misty wasn't interested in being class representative. In that position, she would have minimal power. She needed to be president. She needed to, if she wanted to lead the school.

Finally, she arrived at the bulletin board. Her eyes scanned it and located the student council announcements' list.

Dawn Berlitz had gotten in as secretary.

Gary Oak as vice president.

For president…

Misty's heart stopped. She couldn't breath, but she didn't even notice the lack of oxygen. Her mind was having difficulty coping with the shock of what was written on that paper. And then, finally, her mind comprehended the meaning of the words.

And her heart felt like it crashed to the ground and shattered into a million, devastated shards.

Because the name under 'president' was not 'Misty Waterflower'.

It was 'Rudy Prince'.

* * *

 **Wham. Were you guys surprised by the results? Or had you been expecting it?  
**

 **Anyways, if any of you are wondering, the elections are NOT the end of the story. There is _so_ much more. So stay tuned for the next chapter!**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Bye bye for now! Have a great day, and smile the whole way! :)**


	9. Loss

**Hello everyone! Ehehe, it's kind of been a while, hasn't it?**

 **…I am feeling so bad right now. It's been about two months since I last updated. After vacation in December and exams in January, I actually did get some time to write… but somehow, I didn't finish the chapter. I kept you all waiting. :( And now, I have a trip I'm going to be heading off to tomorrow, and once I do, I won't even be able to start writing the next chapter, so the wait is going to be even longer… I am _so_ sorry. Thanks for being so patient, though!**

 **Now it's chapter time!**

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Loss  
**

 _Rudy Prince…_

 _It says Rudy Prince…_

 _Not Misty Waterflower…_

 _Rudy Prince…_

She had to be dreaming. No, be stuck in a nightmare! Rudy Prince? How had she not won? She had worked so sedulously, worked her absolute hardest, but the evidence was right there. She had not won. She had not gotten the votes. How could she have lost?

Misty stood there, feeling numb and paralyzed. The truth was seeping in slowly, stinging as it did. Why was she so shocked? Had her hopes really risen that high? She should have expected it; she wasn't popular or pretty or charming, not to mention half the school was afraid of her temper. She couldn't possibly have thought that she would win everyone over in less than two week.

And yet, her being so staggered by the loss was proof that she had been confident in her chances of winning. She had been so confident, so hopeful….

It was over. There was no point in standing there in regret. It was over, and the only thing she could do right now was continue on with her life. Go to class. Let Rudy handle his position. She was just another student.

With great effort, she managed to force her legs to mobilize and take her away from the bulletin board. But even though she was distancing herself from it, the image was plastered into her mind, and she could see nothing but that announcement sheet as she walked blindly down the hall.

She had not won….

"Hey, Waterflower!"

Misty blinked as the image faded from her mind, and she looked up to see who had called her name. Someone was standing right in front of her, but she stared blankly at him for a moment before realizing who he was.

"Rudy?" she said in surprise.

"Yup." He grinned amicably. "Well, looks like I won."

"Yeah," Misty said shortly. _Do you have to rub it in?_

"It was a good campaign, though," Rudy continued. Misty wanted to ignore him and continue on her way, but something rendered her unable to. "You know, I had been thinking all along that it was going to be a landslide win for me—not meaning that in a stuck up way, but that's what it looked like. But then you stepped into the picture. At first—I admit—I labelled you as just any candidate, and I didn't think you'd get much attention. Man, was I wrong.

"Seriously, you really gave me some competition. Especially in the last two weeks. And the voting, well, I asked Principal Lance, and according to him, I didn't win by nearly as much as I thought I would. So I would like to thank you for a great campaign. Call me crazy for supporting a rival, but somehow, it was actually nice for a change to see people considering candidates other than me. Actually _thinking_ about what everyone was saying."

Misty stared dumbly at him. Here, she had been expecting him to boast, rub it all in. But it was nothing close to that. It took a moment for her to notice he was now holding out his hand.

"Good campaign, Waterflower," he said.

Misty stared at his hand for a minute before finally shaking it. "Yeah," she said, smiling despite herself. "You too."

"So you planning to run for class rep now?" Rudy said after they withdrew their hands.

"Huh? Well, I wasn't planning to, actually…."

"Really? You should. That was my second option, in case you beat me. I wanted to help out the student council, even if it meant from a position with… not that much power, I guess. But as president, I'm planning to give each rep some of my time. I mean, it's your choice if you want to or not, but I was thinking you might be the kind of person I'd like to work with."

"Uh, okay, I'll think about it," Misty said hesitantly.

"Better make your mind up quickly, though. You have until the end of lunch break to decide whether or not you want to sign up. It looks like Giselle might end up getting the votes in my homeroom. You might just get them in yours."

"Right…"

"Anyways, gotta get to first class. Later!"

Misty watched as the new student council president walked away. What had just happened? Rudy, popular, charming Rudy Prince, actually seemed like… a nice guy? The idea of it felt impossible. Everyone who was popular always seemed to come with the side description of 'mean'. But Rudy didn't appear to fit in that category. And, now that she thought about it, Dawn was also pretty and popular, and she wasn't a bad person either.

Not only that, Rudy had suggested that she try for class representative. And from what she had seen so far, he might actually let her have a voice on the council. She had somewhat of a chance, maybe. The council was made up of the president, vice president, secretary, and eight class representatives. Cerulean High had grades nine to twelve, and each grade had two sections, A and B, and there was a class rep for each section. And, to Misty's advantage, no one from her class seemed too interested in joining the council, and the more popular people who could win over her, like Giselle and Melody, were in the other section, 12A.

Misty shook her head to clear her thoughts. She was getting her hopes up again. Was she prepared to take another risk? If she did, then she would really become a joke. Someone who kept trying to win, but kept losing. Someone who couldn't get it through her thick head that no one wanted to vote for her.

But then again, the way Rudy had been speaking made it sound as if she had come in second place in the elections…

But he hadn't outright said it, had he? His exact wordings were, "I didn't win by nearly as much as I thought I would." He hadn't even mentioned her. Maybe she had been last.

But then why had he mentioned that to her?

It was confusing. She didn't know what to do. Class rep hadn't been her choice. She didn't feel it put her in a position to be of any use. But maybe it was. Maybe there just had to be the right president. But there was no guarantee she would even get on the council.

For now, all she needed to do was put on her confident face and continue on with her day. She had until the end of lunch to think about it, after all. She headed for her locker and took her books from it. Just as she shut and locked it, someone called out to her.

"Hey, Misty."

Misty turned around, her eyes connecting with Dawn's. Misty smiled.

"Congratulations on winning for secretary," Misty said.

"Thanks," Dawn said, smiling in return. Her face held a slight look of uncertainty. "Hey, um, I'm sorry you didn't win."

"Don't worry about it, really. I was sort of expecting it."

 _Lies._

"You did seem like you'd be a pretty good president."

"It would have been nice to win, but Rudy's a great guy too. He'll do well."

"You thinking of becoming class rep, then?"

Misty blinked. Rudy had suggested the same thing. Was this a common strategy everyone used?

"It did occur to me…" Misty said slowly.

"Well, if you do, can't wait to see you there. If not, I'll stop by at lunch. I mean, I still sort of have to return Paul's book, and you said you guys sit in the cafeteria, so…"

"Oh right! Before I forget!" Misty quickly unlocked her locker, reached in, and pulled out a pink book. "This is yours, right?" she said, handing it to Dawn.

"My book!" Dawn exclaimed, taking it from her hands. "Thank you so much!"

"No problem. Hey, I need to get to class now, so…"

"Yeah, us too." Dawn gestured to herself, and Serena, who had been standing behind her. Misty hadn't even noticed Serena there. That girl was so quiet, especially next to Dawn. "Later!"

Misty waved as they headed off, Dawn returning the friendly gesture as she and her friend disappeared into the crowd. Misty lowered her hand. Now two people had said she should sign up for class representative. But neither was in her class, so even if they supported her, they wouldn't be able to give her their vote. So who would support her for sure in her class? There was Ash, probably Paul, and… that was it. Gary and Leaf (well, she wasn't sure about Leaf) were in the other section.

She had to stop thinking about this. She had to clear her mind and focus on getting to first class right now. Especially with the bell about to ring.

Misty sighed and began to head to her homeroom class.

* * *

The topic of her not becoming president didn't come up again until lunchtime. Paul didn't mention it or even act any different in general. But then again, he never talked in class anyways, and Misty hadn't expected much of a reaction from him. Ash had been late to school, and they didn't get much chance to talk throughout the day, since the teachers seemed pretty intent on overworking them in class. Misty didn't see Leaf anywhere all day, and Gary was always surrounded by his fans congratulating him on becoming vice president. May, she was in a different grade all together, so they chances of them meeting up before lunch were slim.

But finally, Misty found herself at the lunch table, seated beside Paul, who was eating his lunch in a bored manner while she picked at her own meal. She was too busy contemplating the idea of her as class representative to eat.

"Hey, Mist!" Ash appeared, grinning boyishly as he sat down with a tray piled with food.

"Hi Ash," Misty said absentmindedly.

His face turned sympathetic. "Sorry you didn't win. I thought for sure you had it!"

"Hm? Wha'?" Misty had to think for a second to realize he was talking about the elections. "Oh, right. Yeah…"

"Hi, Misty!" May showed up, multiple bowls of noodles on her tray. She gave a sympathetic smile as she sat down. "Too bad for not winning. I voted for you. You want some noodles?"

May sacrificing a bowl of noodles for Misty was a sign of true and devoted friendship.

"It's okay, May. Not in noodle-mode right now." May looked appalled at the rejection, as if not wanting noodles was a sin. "Thanks you guys," Misty said to both Ash and May. "You guys really helped out a lot. I kind of feel sorry I didn't win, because your guys' work went to waste."

"Nah, I was glad to do it!" Ash brightly. "Any time!"

"Yeah!" May agreed through a mouthful of noodles.

Misty was about to respond when, suddenly, someone new arrived at the table.

Gary. And for some reason, he did not look that happy.

"Really, Misty?" he said when he stopped beside where she was sitting. "Seriously?"

"What?"

"How could you not win? You were supposed to win. How could you not? How could you do this to me?!"

"Do what to you? What are you talking about?"

"Leave me on the student council with no allies!" Gary said dramatically.

"…What?"

"You heard me! You and I were a team, sort of, so we were on the same side. And with you as president and me as vice president, we would have totally controlled the council! But _noooo_ , Rudy wins. I already told you: Rudy and I do not get along!"

"'Controlled the council'?" Misty repeated exasperatedly.

"Yeah. Don't you get it? That's how it always works! You have to have people supporting you in the council. Right now, I have no allies! Giselle might be one, but she's tricky. Plus, I don't know if she prefers supporting me more or Rudy. And I don't know much about which other class reps will be voted, and I don't know if I can get them all on my side. But I know you would be, right?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Because I know we can work as a team." Misty sensed he meant they could bribe each other or make deals to get each other's support. "So you better win as class rep! Right now, Rudy's president and I don't like him, and Dawn's secretary, and she's on Rudy's side and sort of hates me at the moment."

"Since when has the council been about going up _against_ one another?" Misty said irritatedly. "Isn't the whole point to work _together_?"

"Ah, the words of an amateur," Gary said, leaning against the table. "Don't worry, I'll have you functioning as a full politician in no time. Once you're class rep."

"Who said anything about me becoming class rep?" Misty said hotly. "I can make my own decisions, thank you very much. You can't just assume I'll do what you want!"

Gary rolled his eyes. " _I_ was under the impression you were already signed up. You know, since you seemed so _desperate_ to get on the council before."

Misty stood up, planting her hands on her hips. "And what if I'm not?"

"Then you've just ruined your entire reputation," Gary said, shrugging. "It would make me look bad too, I guess, since I'd been supporting you, but everyone's already suspecting bribery was involved. So I could just say the rumours are true and you pushed me into a deal or something."

"You wouldn't dare," Misty hissed.

Gary stepped back, giving a sheepish grin. "I'm kidding! I'm smart and value my life, so there's no way I'd do something like that. And, actually, I'd rather not play dirty. But you _do_ ruin your own reputation by not going for class rep. You know that, right?"

Misty folded her arms. "How?"

"The whole point of the campaign was to convince everyone that you care about them, and would do anything to have their voice heard, correct? So now that you lost the position that would place you with the most power, you don't continue trying to get into council as everyone thought you would. Trying to get in would mean you meant what you said and are still trying to be a voice, even if it's not as loud. But not even signing up, it would look like all you wanted was to be in power, and now that you've lost that chance, there's no point in getting in as rep. See what I mean?"

"Sort of," Misty said, frowning. He was right. It _would_ look as if she had just been interested in power. Especially with how everyone had already thought about her. But did people _really_ sit around analyzing her to that extent?

And did _she_ really want to become class representative? If Rudy, Dawn and Gary hadn't said she should, would she have considered it in the first place? It wasn't quite the position she was aiming for. But…

"Look, it's my decision," Misty said. "I don't care about reputation. I want to decide according to what _I_ want, according what _I_ think is best. So stop thinking everything will go the way you want it to, because, news flash, the world doesn't revolve around you, Gary."

Gary stared at her, slightly taken aback by the ferocity in her voice.

Ash let out a slow, long whistle. "Wow. You just got burned, Gary."

"You go girl!" May cheered.

"Fine then," Gary said, shrugging, though there was a hint of a grin on his face. "Whatever you want."

"Oh, and by the way"—Misty leaned in slightly and lowered her voice—"the deal's off. I didn't win, and I said I'd only keep my end of the deal if I won."

"Yeah, yeah." Gary waved dismissively. "I was suspecting some double-crossing on your part, actually. Leaf probably figured it out and made some kind of deal with you, right? Why else would there suddenly be a bunch of random strangers supporting you all of a sudden? Like the newspaper and stuff. Has Leaf written all over it."

Misty shrugged, not admitting anything. She sat back down to start her lunch. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Paul had already gotten up beside her and was about to slip off. Their table had gotten too crowded and loud for his taste.

"FOUND YOU!"

The shriek resounded throughout the cafeteria, catching everyone's attention. Before Misty knew it, there was a flash of blue, and, all of a sudden, a certain blue-haired girl was standing by the table. More specifically, right in front Paul, preventing his escape.

"Finally! Days of searching have finally paid off!" Dawn cheered, pointing straight at Paul's face.

Paul stared at her, unblinking.

"I have something I need to return to you." She held out a grey book to him, beaming.

Paul, however, did not take it. Instead, he glared at it as if it had somehow been tainted by Dawn's touch. Possibly because he found her cheerfulness offensive for some unknown reason.

"Come on, take it! It's yours, isn't it? I think we switched that time we bumped into each other—sorry about that! But I sort of ended up with your book, and I wanted to return it but couldn't because I had no idea where you were, but then I met up with Misty and she said you're sometimes in the cafeteria, and you're here right now so I found you!"

Dawn was talking so fast without break that Misty wondered how she even had time to breathe.

Paul continued staring at the book in disgust before finally roughly taking it from her hands. His eyes flickered toward the rest of the cafeteria for less than a second, and Misty suddenly became conscious of the fact that everyone in the cafeteria was watching the scene right now. Dawn seemed oblivious to it. Either that or she didn't care.

"Move," Paul said shortly, a tightness in his voice.

Dawn frowned. "What, not even a thank you? I try locating you for days to return this book—which, for all I knew, could have been super-important or something—and all I get is 'move'? Well, excuse me for taking the time to give back a lost item! And from what I know, you made no effort to give back my book, now, did you? No, you had Misty give it back for you! And I can forgive that, but could you at least show a little appreciation for _my_ consideration? I only met you for one instance, and you were rude even then!"

Paul's eyes flickered toward the rest of the cafeteria again and, ignoring the furious blue eyes glowering at him, he slipped past Dawn and calmly made his way out the cafeteria doors.

"Why you—!" Dawn yelled after him. "I'm not done! Come back here, you plum of rudeness!" She stomped out through the doors as well, probably to reproach him further.

The cafeteria was silent after the two were gone, but soon there were snickers and chuckles and everyone returned to their chatty, bustling selves. Misty couldn't help but laugh herself. There was such a contrast between Dawn and Paul. Paul was saturnine and hated attention, trying to go unnoticed whenever he could; Dawn was bubbly and always in the spotlight, having the tendency to make quite dramatic scenes.

"There she goes," Misty heard someone say softly nearby. Serena. Again, Misty had failed to notice her somehow, even though Misty suspected she had been standing behind Dawn the whole time.

"Hey, Serena," Misty said nonchalantly.

Serena gave a small, hesitant smile. "Hi." She glanced at the cafeteria doors. "I'll go make sure Dawn doesn't drive him off a cliff or something." And then she left without saying anything else.

"You know, Mist," Ash said thoughtfully. "Maybe you _should_ be class rep. Not because Gary said so, but because I think you'd be great at it. Really."

"Mm-hm," May agreed. "Mm-hmph mm-mm hm." Her mouth was currently full at the moment, rendering her unable to speak.

Misty sighed. "I'll think about it, guys. Just… I have until the end of lunch, don't I?"

The bell chose to ring at that exact moment.

"Now, you only have about a few minutes," Gary said. "Come on, if you run, you can probably sign up in your homeroom before class starts."

Misty huffed and stood up. "I'm thinking, I'm thinking! You guys go to class. I'll decide by myself."

When they all parted ways, instead of hurrying to her homeroom, Misty went to her locker to get her stuff. Should she sign up? The pressure was getting to her. She didn't have time to decide. Only about a minute…

Suddenly, she wasn't thinking. She was running down the hallway as fast as her feet could take her, which, with her being so athletic, was pretty fast. She arrived at her homeroom. No one was there, but the door was open. On the bulletin board was a sheet with a list of people who wanted to be class representative. At the end of the day, there was going to be a vote to determine who would take that position.

Misty pulled out a pen and brought it to one of the empty lines. There were only a few other names, but she didn't pay attention to those. Should she do it? Should she write her name down? Should she…?

The bell rang, signalling the start of next class. She was late. She needed to decide _right now_.

"Ms. Waterflower, what are you doing out of class?" a voice snapped. It was her strict, no-nonsense physics teacher, Mrs. Price.

"Um, I was—"

"To class, Ms. Waterflower. _Now_."

"But I just need to—"

"And _I_ need to go home after school, but I'll stay to give you a detention if need be. _To class_."

Misty felt heat rise up her neck.

 _Don't snap, don't snap, don't snap… She's a teacher, Misty, you can't lose your temper at a teacher. Especially **this** teacher._

She had no choice but to obey.

She had missed her chance. She had missed her chance to write down her name. She remembered hearing a long time ago that lost opportunities were the worst. And now, she felt she could vouch for that.

* * *

The day slowly came to an end, and Misty found herself heading back to her homeroom class for the class representative elections. Everyone was given a piece of paper, and everyone had to sit at their desks. Mr. Randell began writing the names of the candidates on the board. Each student had to write the name of his or her choice of the paper.

Misty stared at the board blankly. She wished he would write her name up on the board as well. He wouldn't, of course, because she hadn't signed up, but she wished he would….

And he did.

Misty had to blink and rub her eyes to confirm what she was seeing. And, sure enough, the final name he wrote down was, indeed, 'Misty Waterflower'. But she hadn't signed up! Had there been some kind of mistake? Or maybe Gary had gone and signed up for her? But Gary had been in the cafeteria with her the whole time. Who in the world had…?

It didn't matter right then. Whatever the reason, she had somehow become a candidate. And she wanted to become the representative as well.

* * *

Once the elections were done, Misty couldn't stop thinking about it. Who had signed her up? It didn't make sense.

Gary wanted her to be in the student council, but he had been with her all lunch, and she doubted he would have gone signed her up himself. Ash? No, he and May wouldn't have wanted to force her into it. She'd told them she would decide for herself. Paul was a possibility, since he had made posters for her even though he didn't look like he would. But hadn't he been trying to escape Dawn at the time? Besides, he wouldn't meddle with her business when it was clear she was undecided.

Being so lost in her thoughts, Misty could hardly pay attention to where she was going. Until, that is, she was forced back to reality because of an unpleasant collision with a passing-by student.

"Omph!" Misty grunted as her books left her arms and fell to the floor.

"My apologies," said a calm voice. She turned to the speaker, and her eyes connected with the emerald-green ones of a teenage boy. He seemed familiar, and Misty was sure his name was on the tip of her tongue. But, at the moment, she could not recall it.

"Sorry," she said, bending down to pick up her belongings.

The boy bent down as well to give her a hand. "You're Misty Waterflower, correct?" he said suddenly.

"Huh? Oh, er, yeah," Misty answered distractedly.

"Hm…" He somehow sounded judging. Misty hated being judged. She was subjected to it every time her sisters were in the same room as her.

"If you have something you want to say, say it," she snapped.

"Oh, nothing." He smirked in a way that irked her even more. "Just was realizing I hadn't met you yet."

"So? What's your point?"

"Well, I voted for you in the elections, didn't I? Might as well know whom you're putting into power."

Misty straightened up after gathering up her books. She raised an eyebrow at the boy. He wasn't in grade twelve like her, she knew that much. But he didn't look much younger, so he must only be at most a grade lower. Possibly. He looked right back at her, calm and cool, a kind of arrogance flowing about his features.

"The elections are over and I didn't win, in case you don't know. So there really is no point in getting to know me _now_ , is there?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. But it was probably pretty idiotic of me to vote for you without having even met you."

"Look, is there anything you want? I don't have the luxury of standing around here, you know. Who are you anyways?"

His smirked widened as he flipped the fringe of his hair. "Drew Hayden, of course."

Drew Hayden. That's why he'd seemed familiar. He was well-known throughout the school, but Misty never really paid attention to who was popular and who wasn't. Sure, most people, such as Dawn, were just known even if you never deliberately gave them any attention. But Drew was one of those guys whom everyone knew, but he never did anything to promote himself. He never went around trying to get to know people or trying to get others to know him. And, frankly, Misty had no idea _how_ he had gotten popular in the first place.

"Okay then, _Drew_ , do you mind not wasting my time? I'll be leaving, thank you very much."

Just as she turned away from him, he spoke. "Leaf's looking for you, you know."

Misty turned back to him with narrowed eyes. That explained why Drew had voted for her without thinking about it. Leaf must have told him to. "Oh, are you one of her little minions? Well, tell her I'm not interested."

"No, I'm not in her little club, actually, if that's what you're thinking. She didn't send me. But I just thought I'd let you know."

"And why exactly, may I ask?"

"Because she was looking pretty furious about something. Oh, there she is now."

"Wha—?" Before Misty had time to react, someone passed by her, snatching onto her arm with a vise-grip as she did, dragging her along without a word. Misty blinked, stunned, before realizing who it was. " _Leaf_?"

Leaf didn't answer, continuing to walk in brisk strides. She didn't even look at her. Misty turned to look at where Drew was and saw the boy giving her an 'I told you' smirk before walking off on his way.

"Leaf, let go!" Misty managed to wrench her arm from Leaf's grasp. "What are you—"

"Come _on_ ," Leaf hissed, grabbing Misty's arm again and forcefully hauling her along. Her tone of voice didn't seem to suit her at all, as, from what Misty had seen so far, Leaf was a calm, cool and collected girl.

But, apparently, not today.

"Leaf, I can walk on my own, you—" Before she could even finish her sentence, she found herself shoved through a classroom door. She immediately noticed that they weren't the only ones there. Some other people—students—were sitting in some desks, some looking up to see who came the door, some working on whatever they were working on. Leaf's 'nerd club'.

"I can't believe it!" Leaf said frustratedly, slamming the door shut, making everyone jump. "I miscalculated!"

"What?" Misty blinked cluelessly.

"I was so sure I was right, so sure I could guarantee your success, but nooo, I made a mistake! Ugh, I'm an idiot! How did I not see this coming?"

Misty suddenly realized what she was talking about. Leaf had guaranteed Misty's winning the elections. And Misty had not won. But it didn't really matter. She hadn't really expected Leaf to be able to wave a magic wand to bring her success. She wasn't a fairy godmother or anything.

"I told you she'd messed up," Trip, who was sitting lazily at a nearby desk, interjected. "When she decided to do her own speech, I knew something would go wrong."

"No you didn't," Leaf snapped. "You were just complaining that Misty had ruined it because you were annoyed that she didn't even use the speech you worked on. I, on the other hand, had correctly figured that the speech she did say would have a positive impact on the audience. But, for some idiotic reason, I hadn't realized that it didn't necessarily support Misty!"

"Hold on," Misty interrupted. "What are you guys talking about? Are you saying that my speech was the reason I didn't win, even though a lot of people liked it? How does that work?"

"Well," Clemont joined in. "From what I understand, it was a good speech, but it could have been taken in unintended ways. You didn't tell everyone to vote for you; you told them to vote for whoever they thought was best. Some might have thought Rudy was the best candidate, so it worked in his favour."

"Oh. Well that sucks," Misty said irritatedly. "But it doesn't matter now, does it? I lost; no point in bothering yourself over it now, is there?"

"There _is_ point in bothering yourself over it. Ugh, I'm such an idiot!"

"Leaf, seriously, calm down. If anything, it should be a good thing for you, right? I mean, the deal between me and Gary's off, so you don't have to worry about me selling you out or anything anymore."

"I don't care about that! That's something I could handle. But making such a huge miscalculation… Ugh! So. Stupid!"

"Does she really beat herself up over small things like this?" Misty muttered to Clemont.

"Yup. Sometimes she doesn't get over it for days. It usually ends with her doing something to counter her mistake."

"You do realize I can hear you, right?" Leaf said, still sounding viciously furious over her mistake. She sighed frustratedly, turning to Misty. "Well, I might have not gotten you in as president, but I can assure you you will still end up on the council. You mark my words on this one."

"What do you mean?" Misty narrowed her eyes.

"Isn't it obvious?" Leaf rolled her eyes. "Who do you think signed you up as class rep?"

"It was you? You signed me up? Without even asking me?!"

"Well, of course. What, did you think I would sit back here while your stubborn pride prevented you from achieving your goals? Which, by the way, I was supposed to help you achieve, but failed because I was just that pathetic?" Leaf spat the last part quite bitterly.

Misty rolled her eyes. "Look, because I lost the spot as president, you had absolutely nothing tying you to your word that you'd help me. The reason you said you would was so I wouldn't be a pain to you because of my deal with Gary. But once I lost the elections, my deal with Gary disappeared, and so that meant my deal with you disappeared as well. And besides, I was the one who didn't go according to plan, not you. I was the one who ditched your guys' speech, remember? So you didn't make any miscalculation."

"Yes I did! I could have countered it! If I had realized that your speech was a mistake, I could. Have. Countered it!"

"Look, you're just being ridiculous. None of this should have mattered to begin with. So just drop it already!"

"You don't really get it, do you?" Trip drawled from his seat. "If the results of the elections didn't affect us, Leaf wouldn't be so frustrated over this."

Misty eyed him suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

"Us losing an opportunity to control the student council," Clemont answered, looking and sounding disapproving of the idea. He sighed. "Here's the thing. Leaf's always liked having someone in the student council who would make contributions according to what our club wants. And once she realized we could have direct connections with the president, well, you can see what a great opportunity it was for us."

"But I lost," Misty said slowly, the whole picture dawning on her. All this was sounding really familiar… "And so you decided to get me to at least be a class rep to have some say. And… you're… you're just like Gary!" she snapped suddenly, glaring at Leaf accusingly. "All your reasons for helping me, they're just like Gary's!"

Leaf shrugged. "No. I'm not like him. _Gary's_ like _me_. I was always the brains, so he figured he needed to step up his game to compete. But I'm always a couple of steps ahead. That's why he's never going to catch up."

"Well, I'm going to tell you the same thing I told him." Misty folded her arms. "If I get into student council, the decisions I make will be according to what _I_ think is best. I'm not going to do stuff according to what you, or Gary, or _anybody_ says because they want to control the council. I'm not your proxy! I don't care how many tempting offers you come up with. I don't! If you think everything's going to go according to what you want, newsflash, it won't. The world doesn't revolve around you, no matter how many brains you've got!"

Unlike Gary, who had been stunned, Leaf yawned disinterestedly. "Doesn't matter. At least we'll have some voice. You see that kid there?" She pointed to a green-haired boy sitting at one of the desks, studiously writing notes into a book. He looked up and gave a wave before getting back to work. "Sawyer, 10B. Also a future class rep. Might not be much, but he might be good enough." Leaf's face became slightly vexed. "Of course, I _could_ get more voice… if a little pest would just cooperate."

Misty raised an eyebrow. "Who are you talking about? Gary?"

Leaf waved dismissively. "No, not Gary, obviously. But it doesn't matter. It's not like I expected him to actually listen."

" _Who_?"

"If you're not an ally anymore, I suggest you leave," Leaf said suddenly, completely ignoring her question. "You'll get in as class rep. But since it's pretty clear that you won't be backing us up, we really don't need you here."

Misty gaped at her. There was something so… irksome about the way she was saying it. Something about her tone made Misty's blood boil. It was as if she were some employer firing her. But Misty had never been working for Leaf and her club. _They_ had been working for _her._

"Listen up!" Misty hissed. "Just who do you think I am? Some little Growlithe you can call and then tell to run along as you please? I never asked to get involved with you guys, and yet you keep acting as if I came here begging for your help or something!"

Leaf's eyes travelled to her face. "I don't really have time for your whining, you know."

Misty sneered. "Well too bad. Guess you're going to have to put up with it."

"Uh huh. Yeah. So you just stand there, and I'll get to doing my own thing. Leave whenever you like. Conway, you have that computer program ready?"

Misty glowered at the girl as she headed over to where Conway was working on something on his laptop. Then, the redhead furiously turned on her heel and marched out the door, slamming it shut behind her, feeling very tempted to strangle somebody.

* * *

Unfortunately, her day didn't get better. When Misty arrived home, she found, to her displeasure, that her sisters were inconveniently there. They normally were at some show or performance, so why were they home today of all days?

"Oh hey, Misty," Violet said tauntingly. "My, you look like you've had a wonderful day at school, judging from your expression."

"What are you guys doing here?" Misty said rudely as she paused at the bottom of the stairs to throw her question at them.

"Uh, we live here," Daisy said, raising an eyebrow, smiling teasingly. "Oh, and how were the elections?"

Misty's spine turned to ice. How did Daisy even remember the elections were today?

"None of your business!" Misty began stomping up the stairs.

"In other words, you lost!" Lily announced loudly, letting out a laugh.

"I knew it!" Violet said.

"I never said I lost!" Misty shouted down the stairs.

"But you did! Otherwise, you'd be swaggering all over the house right about now!"

Misty felt her head was on fire. She had so wanted to win as president so she could rub it all in her sisters' face. But she hadn't. Instead, she was the same little runt they would tease the life out of.

But she had enough. She couldn't stand it anymore! And the words just spilled out of her mouth before she even had a chance to think about what she was saying. "Yeah, well I DID win! I DID get in as president, so try processing that into you brains!"

Without even waiting for a reply, she stomped into her room, slamming the door shut behind her so hard, she could have sworn she heard it crack. She dropped her bag beside her desk and fell backwards onto her bed, seething. It took a while of listening to the quiet of her room before she could calm her raging brain.

 _That… was a pretty bad lie,_ she realized. One that could go horribly wrong. What had possessed her to say she was president? If her sisters found out the truth, it would be ten—no—a thousand times worse! But she couldn't go back and tell them the truth. It was too late.

But she knew one thing. Maybe… it was in her best interest to win as class representative. Sure, she wanted to, but at this point, with the fib she'd told, she had to keep up to date with whatever the student council was doing to keep her sisters convinced. And at this point, being class rep was probably the way to do that.

* * *

 **And that's that.  
**

 **Again, I feel terrible for taking so long to update. And somehow, I don't feel this chapter did you guys justice considering how long you waited. Maybe if it were longer and it had more stuff going on…**

 **As for the next chapter, I will have to start writing it after I come back. I really hope I can get it to you guys as soon as possible, but it might take a while. Sorry again.**

 **But still, thanks for reading!**

 **And have a great day, and be sure to smile all the way! :)**


	10. The Pallet House

**Hello, everyone! Wow, it's seriously been a long time, huh? Months.**

 **Instead of holding you back from the chapter, how about you meet me for my author's note at the end after you finish reading? See you there! (Okay, well not technically _see_ you, but you get the point.) In the meantime, hope you enjoy!  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 10: The Pallet House**

Ash Ketchum.

A teenage boy with black hair, brown eyes, a childish but sweet smile, apparently never-ending high spirits, and a general knack of cheering anyone up.

Today, however, _he_ was the one in need for cheering up because he couldn't help but feel guilty. Not because of anything he had done, but because of what he hadn't. Yesterday, after Misty's defeat, he hadn't exactly pushed her on to sign up for class rep. She wanted to be in student council—he was sure of it after all that campaigning—but her sudden defeat had pushed her down for a while, and she hadn't had the chance to pull herself back up and write her name on the class rep sheet.

Or so he'd thought.

Because during voting time, she had been one of the candidates, hadn't she? And that meant she must have signed up. And _that_ meant she must have had to build up the courage to do so herself. She was strong, he realized. Not just going-to-beat-you-up-if-you-cross-me strong, but when it came to willpower as well. But that didn't mean she had to do everything alone.

He should have been there. He was her friend, wasn't he? He should have pushed her on to achieve her goals. That was his motto, after all: Never give up till it's over!

And yet all he had done was give his opinion and leave it at that. He didn't tell her not to give up. He didn't tell her to try again. He didn't do _anything_. At least, that's how he felt. So as he got ready for school today, there was only one prominent thought that glazed over anything else he might have otherwise been thinking.

 _She better have won._

* * *

 _Had she won? She hadn't, had she? No, she had lost, like the miserable lying loser she was. Her sisters had found out she hadn't gotten into student council and they were laughing at her. Laughing as she stood alone onstage with Mr. Lance announcing her failure on live broadcast for the whole world to—  
_

 **Beeep. Beeep. Beeep. Beeep.  
**

"Shut up!" Misty screeched, ripping her head from her pillow and sending a fist at her poor, unsuspecting alarm clock. She glared at it as it fell to the ground, probably meeting the same fate as her original one. She hung her head back and sighed.

"What time is it?" she muttered to herself, picking up her cell phone and turning it on.

 _7:47 am._

She stared at it drowsily. Why did she feel like she was forgetting something? She frowned as the gears in her head slowly started turning. Her eyes widened.

Today was Friday. Friday was a school day. Class started at 8:30. She would be labelled late at 8:20. She had thirty-three minutes to get to school and not be late.

 _7:48 am._

"Crap."

And just like that, she transformed from Misty the Dream Queen to a chaotic frenzy of soap and water and toothpaste and uniform and soon found herself galloping from her house all the way to school without breakfast.

 _Come on, come on, come on… Please don't be late, please don't be late, please don't be late…_

She was going to be late. There was no way she could get there on time at the rate she was going….

"LOOK OUT!"

Misty only just managed to jump out of the way as a boy on his bike came heading straight toward her. There was the sound of metal colliding into a lamppost with a cringe-worthy crash. She blinked, snapping herself out of her daze as the boy got up, groaning. She realized that she knew him. In fact, she knew him pretty well.

"Sorry about that! I was in a hurry and… Oh hey, Misty!"

"Ash?" She suddenly couldn't help but feel annoyed. "That's the second time your bike nearly killed me!"

"Ehehe, sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "You running late too?"

 _Running late?_

 _Oh, right._

"Gah!" She turned away from him and began sprinting again. He had already wasted enough of her time! If only she had her poor, unusable bike….

"Hey, Misty! Mist!" Ash was calling out to her, but she didn't care. He rode up beside her on his bicycle. "Misty, wait!"

Misty groaned. "Ash, I don't have time for this!" she said through huffs. "In case you didn't notice, I happen to be running late!"

"No, wait, Misty! Do you wanna borrow my bike?"

She stopped abruptly, and so did he. "What?"

"Borrow my bike." He scratched the back of his head. "Feeling kind of guilty because I'm sort of the reason you can't ride yours right now."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"So because you need it, you deserve to borrow mine for today. Just to get to class on time, yah know."

"But… but what about you?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter." He grinned. "Besides, I remember back when we sort of… crashed into each other, and you were riding so fast—there's no way I could go at that speed! So I'll probably end up late even if I do ride there, but you can probably make it. And anyways, I'm always late, so it's nothing new for me. But you might have just become class rep! And if that's true, then tardiness is not an option." He winked.

She stared blankly. Class rep? But hadn't she lost?

With a jolt, she remembered. No, the results hadn't even been announced yet. They would find out today at the assembly.

"So, you wanna borrow my bike?"

She snapped out of her thoughts, turning back to the boy before her. She smiled.

"Thanks."

* * *

Everything that happened next passed in a blur.

Misty could vaguely recall being nearly run over by Ash before locking up a bike at school. Soon after, she was at the assembly, and suddenly, onstage, feeling oddly numb, though it was taking a long time for her brain to register why. Slowly, Mr. Lance's voice began making sense in her head.

"Here is the student council committee for the year. Congratulations!" He, along with everyone at the assembly, began clapping.

Misty blinked.

Student council committee. That meant he had just announced the class representatives. She glanced around. Of course, she could see the obvious three—Rudy, Gary and Dawn—standing alongside her, but they weren't the only ones. There were quite a few representatives too, and she found herself recognizing Giselle from 12A, Drew from 11A, Trip from 11B, the grade ten kid named Sawyer Leaf had mentioned, and some others whom Misty only recognized because she'd seen them in the halls.

But then, where was 12B's representative?

 _Are you really that stupid?_ a snide, sarcastic voice in her head (that, for some strange reason, sounded like Paul's) said. _Who do you **think** it is?_

And that's when it all clicked together.

 _She_ was class rep.

The class had voted for _her_.

She was now in student council.

It was strange, because before, Misty hadn't thought it would be a big deal, being just class rep. But now, standing onstage, it _felt_ like a big deal. She was now directly involved with student council decisions. Her classmates had trusted _her_ with the job of voicing them.

Her eyes landed on Ash somewhere in the crowd. He looked like he had just arrived, huffing and puffing, and, when their eyes connected, he gave her a huge grin and a double thumbs-up.

She smiled and waved back, suddenly feeling a lot more grateful that he had lent her his bike. His voice (which didn't sound anything like the demeaning Paul-voice in her head) rang through her ears as she imagined his response to her thanks.

 _No prob! Hey, we're friends, so no need to make a huge deal out of it. It's what friends do!_

Or something sappy like that.

But now came the hard part. Now, she actually needed to fulfill her responsibilities. And she was determined to do just that to best of her abilities.

* * *

"Hey, Mist! Congratulations of getting the vote!"

Misty looked up as Ash joined her at the table. May was already there, looking joyous about something (probably Misty's success), but Paul didn't seem to be around.

"Thanks, Ash," Misty replied.

Ash frowned. She _seemed_ happy, but also rushed, with the way she was wolfing down her lunch.

"You in a hurry for something?" he asked, even though Misty's mouth appeared to be too full to answer.

"Rudy stopped by a minute ago," May explained. "He said he wanted to hold a short student council meeting right now. So Misty's gonna be off in a sec."

"Oh. Man, no time to celebrate then, huh?"

Misty swallowed. "Yeah, sorry I can't chat right now," she said, getting up. "Hey, thanks for lending me your bike."

"No prob! I—"

"Here."

Before Ash could finish his sentence, Misty pulled something from her bag and handed him a key attached to a pokeball keychain. It was the key that went with the lock and chain Ash had given her right before she rode away that morning.

"I locked it up at the bicycle rack," she said, gathering up her things. "I'm using the bus after school."

"Oh, right. Hey, Misty—"

"Thanks again." Misty hurriedly got up. "Later!"

She left, not wasting another second. Ash frowned, looking down at the keychain.

"It's great, isn't it?" May chirped. "I mean, I wish Misty could have become president, but at least she's class rep. She's gotta be pretty happy about that!"

"Yeah, definitely!" Ash said, brightening up, his fist clenching around the pokeball. "She totally deserves it."

He sat down at the table. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "we should do something. Like celebrate. Since we've all been—"

"Table's gotten kinda empty," May said absentmindedly, apparently not having heard what he was saying. "Misty's probably gonna have a lot more meetings during lunch and stuff."

"Yeah, well, she's gotta. Right?"

"Mm-hm. Funny, because just yesterday, it was so many of us. We've kinda made a little group, haven't we? You, me, and Misty."

"And Paul," Ash added.

May blinked. "Who?"

"Paul. You know, Misty's friend. Purple hair, quiet guy?"

"Oh, right. Him." She frowned slightly. "I think…."

"Anyways, like I was saying, we should do something for Misty. You know, to say congrats or some—"

The bell rang at that moment.

"Oh, looks like we gotta go now." May bounced up, empty tray in hand. "Need to get to class!"

"Yeah." Ash stood up. "Well, later then!"

"See you!"

Ash watched her disappear through the cafeteria doors. Maybe he'll ask her later. He had her cell phone number, after all (they'd exchanged numbers with each other and Misty in case they needed to contact one another in regards to the campaigning). But for now, it was time for class.

* * *

"So, Mist," said Ash after school once the final bell of the day had chimed through the air.

"Yeah?" She finished zipping up her bag. "You need something?"

"I was thinking, we should celebrate. I mean, you've worked so hard to get the votes, and you finally got 'em! When you first started, it really looked like no one wanted to vote for you at all!"

Misty rolled her eyes playfully. "Ash, you're making a big deal out of nothing. Getting elected in the student council isn't _that_ big of a deal. It's not like I won the Nobel Peace Prize or anything." She swung her bag over her shoulder.

"Yeah, but still. We should do _something_."

"Like?"

"Like how about we go out to a restaurant? You, me, May and Paul! We'll have a great time!"

"A restaurant?"

"Yeah, it'll be on me! How about the Pallet House?" He followed her out the classroom.

"The Pallet House? Wait… Wasn't that the restaurant your mom runs or something?"

"Yeah, that's the one! It'll be great!"

Misty shrugged. "Sounds nice, actually. When will it be?"

"How about tomorrow?" Ash said excitedly. "Saturday, so no school. We can have lunch!" He frowned. "Should we invite Gary too? I mean, he was helping out too, right?"

"He wasn't exactly doing it out of the goodness of his heart, remember?" Misty said. "We made that deal. And he only wanted me in council so he'd have someone to back him up."

"Yeah, I guess there's that."

"So… tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow! I'll call May and invite her too. And Paul, though I don't have his number. You have it though, right?"

"Oh, don't bother inviting him," Misty said dismissively, catching Ash off guard.

"Wha'? But isn't he—"

"He's really not into, well, social stuff," Misty explained. "Unless it has to do with art. Speaking of which, I think he mentioned there's an art gallery thing on Saturday that he's attending, so he won't be able to make it anyways."

"Oh." Ash frowned. "Are you sure? I don't want him to miss out…."

"Trust me, he _wants_ to miss out. Because to him, it's not missing out if it's something that doesn't interest him. And being in a group—or with people in general—really doesn't interest him."

"If you say so…." Ash went from looking uncertain to intrigued. "Art, huh? He likes art? I mean, nothing wrong with that, but didn't expect him to be the artsy type."

"He may not look it, but he's an artist. At school and outside, he's basically the grouchy introvert, but once it's art time, you wouldn't believe it's the same guy. He actually _talks_. _On his own_."

"Whoa!"

"I know, right?" She rolled her eyes jokingly.

"So… tomorrow?" Ash said. "Noon?"

"Sure."

"Yeah!" Ash's face brightened up. "Where should we meet up?"

"Oh, we can meet up at the Pallet House. I'll get the directions from you later."

"Okay! So see you tomorrow!"

"Yeah, see you!"

They parted ways, heading for their respective homes.

* * *

 **The next day…  
**

Misty arrived at the Pallet House earlier than planned, thanks to the bus's route being clear of traffic. Because of that, Misty was expecting a long wait until the others arrived, but, to her surprise, she appeared to be the last one there. Both Ash and May were ready and waiting at a table near the entrance.

"About time you got here!" May cheered as Misty sat down. "I'd been waiting for _so long_ to order, but Ash kept saying we shouldn't start without you, and the food kept smelling _so good_ , and—"

"How long were you guys waiting?" Misty asked, bemused.

"Not long," said Ash, shrugging. "About ten minutes."

"What, really?" May frowned. "I thought it was at least an hour…."

"Ten minutes? I thought we were going to meet up at twelve."

"No, you got the time right," Ash said quickly. "I'm early 'cause I usually help out here, so I've been around since morning. I'm taking the next hour and a half off to have lunch with you guys."

"And there's no way I was going to be late for food," May added.

 _Of course._ Misty mentally rolled her eyes.

"Okay, so should we order?" Ash passed a menu to both.

"Right." Misty scanned over the selection. Everything actually sounded delicious, and she was almost tempted to pull a May and order one of everything. Almost.

"I see what I want!" May said, her eyes lighting up. "Noodles! Oh, and I think I'll also have—"

"Wait until the waiter gets here," Misty interrupted. "Then you can just hand him the entire menu and ask for one of each."

"Oh, good idea! But, actually, your mom cooks here, right?" May said, turning to Ash. "One of each will be way too much. I think I'll just have the Pallet noodles, then."

Misty blinked in surprise. May— _May_ , of all people—was cutting back on food! And the reason for it was… actually pretty considerate. It suddenly occurred to Misty that both she and May were getting these meals for free from a restaurant that, being new in town, was probably not making a whole lot of money just yet. Maybe she shouldn't overdo it….

"I'll… I think I'll try out the Pallet noodles as well," Misty said, passing back the menu.

"All right, then!" Ash looked around. "Hey, Iris!"

The waitress who answered was a girl with thick, bushy purple hair, and, from what Misty figured, she wasn't much older than them. In fact, she looked maybe a year or two younger. Misty assumed she must work here as a part-time job.

"So these are those friends you were talking about," Iris said, scanning over the group.

"This is Iris, guys," Ash introduced. "She just recently got a job here, and she's a huge help during the weekends. And Iris, these are Misty and May."

"Hi, nice to meet you!" Iris said, smiling widely.

"Hey Iris." Misty gave a small, polite wave.

"Hi!" May greeted cheerfully.

"I should take your orders now." Iris pulled out a notepad and pen. "So what do you guys want?"

"Pallet noodles for three!" Ash told her.

"And for drinks?"

"I'll have water."

"What, Misty, just water?!" May gave her a horrified look.

Misty shrugged. Carbonated drinks weren't exactly healthy, and even juice was usually laden with extra sugar. Not the best for drinking daily, especially when you were an athlete. At least, that was how Misty saw it.

"Well, unlike Misty, I'm going to have a 7-Up!" May announced.

"And I'll go with a Coke."

"All right, then!" Iris finished jotting down the order. "Three Pallet noodles, a water for Misty, 7-Up for May, and a Coke for Ash. Okay, I'll get right on it!"

She soon left, leaving the three at the table.

"That Iris, she's pretty fun," Ash said, grinning. "Don't get much time to hang out during the week, but still, when we work here together during the weekends, we have a blast!"

"Yeah, she seems pretty nice," said Misty. "I don't remember seeing her at school, though. Does she go to a different one?"

"Nah, she doesn't go to school at all."

"Wha'?" May sputtered. "Really? No fair! My parents would never allow me to ditch school!"

"She's probably home schooled, May," Misty pointed out, rolling her eyes.

"Don't know much about her, though," Ash continued. "But I think she's sixteen right now."

"Then she might be in my grade," May said thoughtfully. "I should get her to move to Cerulean High. Then we can be in the same class!"

"You don't even know her yet," Misty said, amused.

"So what?" May folded her arms. "I didn't know you, and we still became friends. Anyone you know now, at some point, you didn't know them. You don't start by just knowing someone; you start by getting to know them."

 _True,_ Misty thought. Although it _was_ somewhat strange hearing May be so wise.

It didn't take long before their orders arrived. Misty looked around, noting how uncrowded the restaurant was. Maybe that was why their orders came so quickly….

"Wow, these are so good!" May exclaimed through a mouthful.

"I know, right?" Ash grinned widely. "Back in Pallet Town, my mom's recipes were everyone's favourites!"

"Too bad there aren't many people who know of this place," Misty said, swallowing a forkful. She stared at her plate. These noodles _were_ excellent. Much better than any she'd ever had.

"We're slowly getting more customers," said Ash. "We're still new here, so it takes time to build up these reputations."

"Can you cook like this too?" May asked, starry-eyed as she shoveled more and more into her mouth. She was already done half the plate.

Ash laughed. "Nah, my mom's the cook! She's been trying to teach me the recipes, though. Haven't got the hang of it yet, but I will. Eventually."

May looked at him seriously. "You should. Being able to cook like this for yourself every day…" She sighed dreamily at the thought.

"Hey, I'll get there!"

They became engrossed in eating and chatting for the next while. Misty felt like she was genuinely enjoying herself. She couldn't remember the last time she went out with friends, mostly because her only friend, up till recently, had been Paul, and he basically lived in his art studio.

"I wish Paul could have been here too," Ash said suddenly, as if he'd seen the person who'd crossed Misty's mind.

"Who?" May said absentmindedly, even though it didn't look like she was paying attention, being too focused on her noodles.

"Paul," Ash repeated. "I know what you said, Misty, but I still feel like he's missing out."

"Ash, he doesn't even like sitting at the cafeteria table with all of us there. Sometimes, he doesn't even like sitting in the cafeteria in general."

"I guess…."

"Besides," Misty added, taking a bite of her noodles. "He's probably having a blast at that art galler—"

"OH MY GOODNESS!" May suddenly shrieked, making both Ash and Misty jump.

"What? What's wrong?"

"This!" May held up her cell phone, waving it in their faces. It was hard to see what was on the screen with all that moving around, but Misty could detect some kind of note written down. A reminder for something, if Misty had to guess.

"I was supposed to meet someone! I totally forgot and double-booked myself!" May stood up, finishing off the last of her noodles. "Thanks so much for lunch, Ash! I'll have to catch you guys later, though; so sorry about this! Bye!"

She sped straight out the restaurant, leaving both Misty and Ash very confused behind her.

"Okay…" Misty said hesitantly.

"I hope she's not too late," Ash said, looking after her.

It suddenly became awkwardly quiet. May's sudden outburst had cut off any conversation, leaving the two unsure of what to say.

"So…," Misty said, in an attempt to break the silence. "Do you… have any siblings or pets or…?"

"Nah, I'm an only child. Just me and my mom." He scratched the back of his head. "I do have a buddy Pikachu, though. He's at home right now. You?"

"Three older sisters, Daisy, Violet and Lily. All annoying." She rolled her eyes.

"Wow, three!" Ash's eyes lit up. "I wish I had a sibling. Back in Pallet, though, my friends and I were pretty close, so their siblings were like my siblings too."

"Your friends, huh?" Misty thought for a moment. "There were Gary and Leaf, right? Anyone else?"

"It was mostly us three until Leaf moved away. Then it was me and Gary for a while, before Gary started hanging out with some other guys. Then he moved away too. But, I mean, everyone in Pallet's kind of like a buddy. It's a small town."

"So Gary and Leaf have siblings?" She frowned, trying to think. Gary looked like he was an older brother who'd push around a younger sibling. Leaf… she looked like an older sister, maybe?

"Gary has an older sister," Ash said. "It's funny, because her name's Daisy too, just like one of your sisters. And Leaf…" He trailed off as if something suddenly occurred to him. "Hey, wait."

"What?"

"All your sisters, their names are flowers."

"Yeah, I know, right? My dad's a botanist, and my mom's obsessed with flowers. They're both always travelling, since my dad's always looking for new plants, and my mom works with marine life. Put them together, and they're searching for new underwater plant life." She rolled her eyes. "And thus, they named their daughters after flowers. And even changed their surnames to Waterflower. Dumb, right?"

"I think it's pretty cool," Ash said thoughtfully. "But then why are you 'Misty'? Wouldn't they name you after a flo—"

"Don't you dare go there, Ash Ketchum!" Misty interrupted suddenly, realizing where this was going.

Ash looked confused. "Huh? But—"

"Drop it."

"Why? I'm just asking—"

"Drop. It."

Ash went silent after that, looking puzzled and as if he were trying to figure out what he did wrong. Misty finally sighed, the guilt settling in.

"Okay, sorry," she said. "Here's the thing: Misty's a nickname. I don't like my real name, so don't bring it up."

"Oh. All right." Ash frowned. "But you shouldn't not like your name, Mist. I mean, I know you can't control what your parents name you, but still. It can't be that bad."

"Some girls might like it. I don't. I'm planning to officially change it to Misty once I can."

"But why? Is it really that bad?"

"I don't like it. It doesn't suit me."

"But—"

"Just leave it, Ash."

"…Right."

"Hey, Ash!" A call came from the counter. Iris was standing there, looking mildly irritated. "I've kinda been covering you for over half an hour, you know!"

Ash blinked, turning to check the clock hanging on the wall. "Aw man!" he said suddenly. "I lost track of time!"

"Jeez, you're such a kid," Iris muttered, shaking her head.

"Thanks for covering me, Iris!" He stood, giving Misty a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Mist, break's up. Gotta go work…."

"Hey, don't worry about it." She stood. "You have to work; I get that. I guess I'll be on my way then. Thanks for lunch, though! It was great."

Ash grinned goofily. "Thanks for coming! I'll see ya later. Oh, and stop by again, some time!"

 _Though there probably won't be a free lunch next time,_ Misty thought. But she liked it here, with the pleasant atmosphere and good food….

"Yeah, will do!" Misty waved as she walked out the glass door. She paused, looking back pensively.

 _Maybe I can get a job here some time. It's nice enough…_

But for now, she needed to get home to do her homework. She began walking again, leaving the Pallet House behind her.

* * *

 **Well, that's done! I hope you liked it. Now need to start working on the next chapter.**

 **But before that, I want to apologize for my absence. Sorry! Thanks for waiting so patiently, though!**

 **So why did I seem to suddenly disappear off of FFN for so long? Firstly, school. I decided to put most of my focus in that area, especially since I had exams to deal with. The last of my exams was on June 27. Then, I had some life stuff to do. Like finish up my university schedule, clean out my closet (trust me, what filled my closet succeeded in filling my entire room), and, of course, relax. And now, there's a lot of reading I want to do, because seriously, I haven't been able to free read much while school was still in session.**

 **So what now? Well, I do plan on writing for FFN, but I am going be starting university in September, which, from what I hear, really busies you up. So this summer, I hope I can get some chapters out (can't promise anything, though, especially if my family decides to make some travel plans), but after summer's over, finding some FFN time might prove to be a bit difficult. I'll do my best!**

* * *

 **Also, I realize that, for this story, the grade everyone is in might be getting a bit confusing to keep track of. I'm sorry! I'll keep this in mind if I ever start a new story: Don't make stuff hard to keep track of!**

 **So here are the grades everyone is in. If you want to know about someone I might have missed as well, let me know!**

 **12A: Gary, Leaf, Rudy, Melody, Giselle, Conway**

 **12B: Misty, Ash, Paul  
**

 **11A: Drew, Dawn, May, Brianna, Serena, Clemont  
**

 **11B: Ursula, Trip**

 **Iris doesn't go to school, but if she did, she'd be in grade eleven.**

* * *

 **Bye bye for now! Have a great day, and smile all the way! :)  
**


	11. Haydens and Greenwillows

**Hello, all you wonderful people!  
**

 **Good news: I finished this chapter. Ehehe, it's been, what, nearly a year? Anyways, thanks for being so patient, so if anyone is still reading this, enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Haydens and Greenwillows  
**

 _November already,_ May thought, strolling down the hall, eyes glued to her phone. _Everything goes by so fast nowadays._

It had only been weeks since the student elections, since Misty joined the student council, but to May, it felt like it had all taken place last year. That short period of time had been so action-packed, and now, school days were dragging on as usual. Even slower than usual, really, considering she didn't really have anyone to hang out with anymore. Sure, there was Misty, but they could only meet up at lunch, and she was usually doing something concerning the student council. And Ash … well, he was more Misty's friend. It was fine hanging out with him when Misty was around, but it somehow became awkward when she wasn't.

 _But isn't that how I became Misty's friend?_ May thought distractedly. _I randomly went up to her and declared we were friends, and she didn't have a problem with it. And Ash seems even more open to new people than she does. It shouldn't be too hard to start some random conversation or something._

Her walk was interrupted by an unpleasant collision with someone.

"S-sorry!" she said, looking up. "My bad! I wasn't looking where I was –"

"It's fine. I wasn't really paying attention either."

The voice made her pause and focus on who was in front of her. She huffed in annoyance. "Why do you always show up when I'm trying to do something around here, you dumb cabbage garden!"

Drew raised his eyebrow and gestured to the locker he was walking away from. "Um, because this is my locker?"

May frowned. He'd actually sounded civil when he'd accepted her apology. Now, his voice had returned to the usual haughtiness she had always associated it with. "Oh."

She looked back down on her phone's screen, walking around him and continuing down the hall. Her thumb travelled from letter to letter as she typed in a response to the text message she'd received.

"Hey, wait a minute."

She looked up again, and turned to face Drew. "What?" she asked, confused.

"You know, it's rude to walk off in the middle of a conversation."

"What conversation? I apologized, you said it was fine. We weren't talking or anything."

"Well, that's a first. Every other time, you basically blew up in my face."

May's eyebrows creased. "I did not!"

"Uh, really?" He smirked. "What do you call throwing a poster at my face?"

"Advertisement!"

"Right." He was looking more and more amused by the minute, and with it, May's annoyance level was rising. "So I guess –"

"Why are you even talking to me?"

"People generally respond to the person they're talking to."

"No, I mean…" She paused, considering him. "I don't think you've ever talked to me before. Okay, I get that the first time, I might have possibly been getting in your way – from your perspective, at least – and then later, you wanted to know more about Misty as a president candidate. But you don't really have a reason to be talking to me at this point. Like I said: I said sorry, you said it was fine. There is nothing more to be said after that."

Drew shrugged. "Maybe I'm bored."

"Maybe I'm not."

"That doesn't change the fact that I am."

"That doesn't change the fact that I don't want to talk to you."

"You're talking to me right now."

"People generally respond to the person they're talking to," she said, throwing his words back at him. "Doesn't mean I want to."

"Yeah, well."

"Hey, wait a minute. You're in the student council, aren't you?"

"Good to know you actually pay attention to who your own class representative is."

"Misty said there was a meeting right now. Why aren't you…?"

"How do you know it's not over?"

"Um… Oh. I guess that means Misty's done too."

"It's not over, actually."

"But you just said –!"

"I asked how you knew whether or not the meeting was done."

"Well!" May crossed her arms, fuming. "First of all, stop bugging me. I don't know you, we've never really talked, you have no reason to acknowledge my existence, we aren't friends and likely never will be, so stop bothering me already!"

For a moment, she glimpsed something that looked very close to disappointment on his face, but it disappeared. She nearly rolled her eyes. _Quit with the fake tears. You should join the drama club with that acting._

"Second," she continued, "I can see how good of a choice voting you as class representative was. Wonderful seeing you slack off, ditching the meetings –"

"I'm not," he interrupted, suddenly sounding a little irritated. "I forgot something in my locker. I went to get it." He held up the folder she hadn't noticed he was holding. "See? I'm heading back now."

"Well, you're supposed to be, but you're fooling around and bothering me. Get going already." She huffed. "You're as annoying as Max. Maybe even worse."

"Who's – Wait, did you say you voted for me?"

"Yeah. So? Is that surprising?"

"From the way you're acting now, yes."

She shrugged. "Everybody did. Though now that I'm seeing the real you, I'm really starting to regret it."

"This is not the –" He stopped, his eyebrow giving a little twitch. "Actually, you're right. I should get going." He started walking down the hall she'd come from, only sending back one lazy wave. "Later."

"No, not later!" May yelled after him as he disappeared around the corner. She stared after him for a moment, and shook her head.

 _What's with him? He always seemed like the guy I wanted as class rep, calm, cool, collected, polite, but in reality, he's just an arrogant bonehead! I should have known. After how rude he'd been when I was trying to advertise Misty, I should have figured it out, even when he started helping out for no reason. He didn't deserve my vote._

But then again, there hadn't been any other good options. The next best would have been Dawn, but she was the student council secretary.

She began heading down the hall again, but when she looked up, she stopped. There was someone standing at the very end, staring at her. Someone she knew very well.

Or had _thought_ she knew very well.

 _Brianna._

She was standing by herself, none of her friends accompanying her. No Melody, no Ursula, no Giselle.

 _And no May._

She shook the thought away and continued walking, her eyes glued to her phone, though she couldn't remember what she'd been trying to type. She was going to walk right past Brianna, she thought. Right past her, and not look at her. She was going to show her that she was over her; Brianna had chosen her new friends, and May had made new ones, and they were better, more genuine than Brianna ever was!

Right when she was beside her, right when May was about to walk past, Brianna suddenly grabbed her arm. May looked up, right into her eyes. Brianna was struggling with something; May could see it. Her eyes stared at her, conflicted, her mouth trying to form words. And somewhere, in the features of her face, an apology was looming, so close to bursting out.

 _Say it,_ May thought desperately, forgetting everything she'd been trying to convince herself only seconds ago. _Say sorry, and let's be friends again. Let's leave all this behind, maybe even laugh about it some day. I don't want to keep doing this. Please, Brianna. I need you._

And finally, Brianna spoke.

"I…" she said hesitantly. "I… It's not fair!"

May stared, shocked. She'd heard it, the shift in her tongue. She'd been about to say 'I'm sorry,' so clearly about to say just that. How had it transformed to an accusing 'It's not fair'?

A familiar, hurting bubble rose up in May's stomach, threatening to burst.

"What's not fair?" she snapped. "You abandoning me for three idiots you barely know?"

"You, you're not fair," Brianna said. She sounded betrayed, as if _she_ were the victim, and May couldn't fathom why.

"Me? Oh, sorry, but I think your new friends' idiocy has been rubbing off on you. How am _I_ not fair? What could have I possibly done now, other than realize what a fake you were? I'm only sorry I didn't figure it out sooner. If you never wanted to be friends with me, why didn't you just tell me sooner?" She was yelling now, and using every bit of her strength to prevent herself from crying.

"I'm not a fake!" Brianna yelled, her eyes near tears. "You are! You've known for years that I admire Drew, that I've been planning to get him to be my mentor as a coordinator, and now that I'm out of the picture, you just thought you had the perfect chance to get all buddy-buddy with him and rub it all in my face, didn't you?"

" _WHAT?_ You think that I…! I don't…! Why in the world do you care? It's none of _your_ business who I talk to!"

Brianna was clenching her teeth, hurt and betrayed, and May could feel a reel of memories playing in her head: Brianna telling her how her mother was Drew's mother's friend, and how they'd met during a visit; Brianna rambling about how Drew entered junior Pokemon contests from time to time, and how talented he was, how his performances were perfect; Brianna dreaming of become as good as Drew in Pokemon coordinating some day and coordinating full-time; Brianna admitting that she wanted to try befriending Drew, maybe getting pointers from him and training with him, since she always wanted to have someone as passionate as her about coordinating to talk to; May hanging back as Brianna tried to have a small, friendly chat with him, only to have him politely say that he had to get to class, leaving May to comfort her disheartened friend…

May had no interest in Drew, and Brianna did. It was understood between the two of them; it had always been. And now Brianna was acting as if she had some kind of right to him that May was stealing away… It made her boil all over.

"I never promised you anything!" May screamed. "So what if I'm his friend? If you can be friends with a bunch of obnoxious fakes, I can be friends with anyone I want to, all right?"

Without waiting for a response, she wrenched her arm from Brianna's grasp and sped down the hall and around the corner. Once the other girl was out of sight, she fell back against a wall, heartbroken.

She'd been so close to apologizing, so close to coming back. If stupid Drew hadn't insisted on talking to her, Brianna would have said sorry right then and there, in that very hall. And everything would have been all right.

 _Why don't you take the initiative and forgive her?_ a voice whispered. _If it's so hard for her, why don't you say it first, tell her how you feel, that you want to be friends again, and if she does too – which she definitely does – she'll accept. Why leave it up to her?_

May closed her eyes. No. She wasn't going to ask to be friends again, not when it had been Brianna's fault. She wasn't going to beg her to come back when Brianna had been the traitor.

Even when she thought it, attaching 'traitor' to the name of her ex-best friend _hurt_.

 _She had fallen into a pit. A deep, never-ending abyss with nothing but a rope to hold onto so she wouldn't fall to the bottom. She so desperately wanted to climb back up herself, but a part of her refused to, waiting for Brianna to start pulling her out first, waiting for Brianna to admit her wrong, to apologize._

 _But Brianna still hadn't come. And the rope was starting to rip…  
_

* * *

Drew walked briskly in heavy, impatient steps. Partly because he'd taken so long to get just one folder, and partly because he had somehow succeeded in making May announce that she would most likely never be his friend.

 _Way to go, Drew. You just made her hate you even more,_ he thought irritatedly as he made his way to the student council meeting. _How is that even possible? You had all the chance to make a good first impression, and, somehow, you messed that up!_

He tried to think back to when he'd first finally, _finally_ gotten the chance to talk to her without it seeming like it was for no reason. She'd been standing in front of his locker with that fan-girl Brianna nowhere in sight. A perfect chance to say hello. And what had happened? He had somehow ended up annoying her and getting a poster slammed on his face.

 _How had that ended so badly?_

And then he'd tried to make it up by helping her with the posters.

 _That only made her confused._

And today, he'd tried to talk to her, have a small chat since he'd managed to become an acquaintance.

 _Or so I thought. She doesn't think anything of me!_

It was frustrating. Brianna had always been stuck to May's side, giving Drew absolutely no chance at getting acquainted. Plus, since Brianna was one of his squealing fans, it made it even harder, since May tended to disappear whenever Brianna approached him. In fact, he'd been… _glad_ they'd broken their friendship. It meant he got a chance to properly talk to May.

 _I sicken myself,_ he thought, smiling bitterly. _Have I really sunk so low that I relish broken friendships because it means I might get what I want? How selfish can I get?_

But he couldn't help it. He'd admired May since they had first ended up in the same class in grade six, admired how she stood up for her friends, how she was proud of who she was and declared everyone should be proud of themselves too. It was due to her that he'd been encouraged to start pushing for what _he_ wanted, to start really striving for his goals and to stop thinking that his future was cut out for him.

But what interested him the most was how much of a puzzle May was. The simplest of puzzles, yet the most difficult to solve. He knew how people reacted in society from his sixteen years of experience: when there was an opportunity for fame or elevating status, people jumped at it. May had had that opportunity. She'd had access to the most popular girls in school: Giselle, Melody, and Ursula.

But she'd left them, didn't even bother trying to win their favour when she had the chance, simply because she didn't like them. It led to them picking on her – he'd seen them.

 _And done nothing,_ a voice in his head added.

And even then, she didn't cower in fear. Why? Because she knew there was no reason to. She wasn't weak, and she didn't want to suddenly become something she wasn't because other people tried to intimidate her. She'd been like that ever since he'd first seen her: cut off from all societal influence, simply living her own life because that's what made sense. Not bothered by society's pressure.

But how could she resist? How was everything so simple as 'do it if you want, and not if you don't' for her? Drew knew he couldn't be like that even if he tried. Not when his brain insisted on branching to the infinite possibilities of what might sprout from his actions, weighing the pros and cons of everything and making decisions according to those. Not on whether or not he'd actually wanted to do something. And he knew many people were like that. I was a reasonable thing, looking at the long term effects.

Yet May was an anomaly.

And he'd figured that the best way to unravel her secret was by getting to personally know her.

 _And **that's** going really well, _ he thought sarcastically.

"Yo, Drew! Hurry it up!"

Drew snapped out of his thoughts. The door to the conference room, where they were holding their meeting, was open, and Gary was standing there, gesturing him over.

"We've been waiting for so long, man! Lunch's almost over!"

Drew hastened through the door, Gary swinging his arm around his shoulders as he did. "Too bad Rudy's a patient guy. Would've loved to see him blow up in anger," Gary muttered in his ear. Drew suppressed a smirk as Gary went back to his seat.

"Sorry," Drew said, handing the student council president the folder he'd brought. "Took longer than expected."

"No problem," Rudy said, flashing him one of his signature smiles. Drew was sure Gary was inwardly dying.

"You know, if you're going to be on the student council, you shouldn't forget things that you're supposed to bring to the meetings." Drew's eyes went to Giselle at her honey-sweet voice. He almost rolled his eyes at how much her arrogance reflected his sister's.

"I'll do better next time," he said, smiling politely and sitting down beside Gary.

 _Even though I left it in my locker on purpose so I could escape when the meeting became too boring._

"You know, these are really good," Rudy said thoughtfully, pulling out three sheets from the folder. Posters, in fact. Each of them made for a bake sale they planned to have next week to raise money for the school. "You hand-drew these?"

"Yes." Drew flipped the fringe of his hair. "It's no big deal."

"All we need to do now is photocopy these, right?" Rudy said, peeling his eyes from the posters. "Can some of us stay after school and ask to use the school office photocopier and make enough copies to put around the school by tomorrow?"

"The school photocopier is broken," a grade ten class representative, Sawyer, interjected.

Rudy frowned. "What, really? I'm sure that it was working yesterday, wasn't it?"

"Actually," Trip, the other grade eleven class representative, drawled, "it's been broken for the past week. It's driving everyone nuts."

 _By everyone, you mean everyone in that club of yours,_ Drew thought. "I have a photocopier at home," he offered. "I can make copies for tomorrow."

"But we needed these to be up _by_ tomorrow," Rudy said. "The sooner, the better." He sighed. "But I guess if it's only one day late, it'll still be all right…."

"Or I could come early tomorrow and put them up before class starts," Misty spoke up. "I don't live far from here. It wouldn't be too bad to wake up an hour earlier than usual."

"Um, are you forgetting that _Drew_ would have the copies?" Gary said, amused. "Are you going to magically transport them from his house to yours or something?"

Misty rolled her eyes. "In case you've forgotten, oh Wise One, it doesn't take teleportation to go to someone's house yourself."

 _Misty at… **my** house?_ Drew stopped himself from frowning. He was perfectly capable with interacting with her as a student council member, or even a schoolmate. But having the hotheaded, temper-flaring, _loud_ Misty Waterflower within the comfort of his home was an entirely different story.

"Sounds good," Rudy said. "Drew can photocopy these, Misty can pick them up from his house and put them up tomorrow morning. Everyone okay with this?"

There was a ripple of agreement, and Drew found himself included in it. After all, what was the big deal? She was just going to be at his doorstep. He'll just hand her the photocopies, and she'll be gone. It will be like she wasn't even there.

* * *

Misty rang the doorbell and waited. It was some hours after school, and she was now in front of what was presumably Drew Hayden's house. They'd switched numbers after the meeting, and a short while ago, he'd texted her his address saying that he was done with the photocopying.

 _Nice house,_ she thought, glancing around. _Someone in the house must have a love for gardening._

The November chill had left a layer of frost, but it had not effaced the evidence of a well-maintained lawn. There were even rose bushes, though the flowers had disappeared along with the warm weather. The house itself wasn't incredibly large in size, but it was in a more pricey neighbourhood. Although Misty didn't need to know about the neighbourhood to deduce that this house belonged to people who had the ability to satisfy their expensive tastes.

The door opened, and she came face to face with Drew. "Hey," he greeted, holding a thick, large envelope out to her. "Here are all the copies."

"Thanks." Misty took it, tugging out a few posters halfway to take a look.

"See you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah. See you."

He closed the door.

Misty started heading back, her eyes glued to the posters. _They're not bad,_ she admitted to herself. _But if Rudy thinks these are good, he should see what Paul can come up with._ Her mind briefly went back to the posters he'd made for her during the elections. She hadn't seen him drawing as much since. She still went over sometimes to get some homework done, but even then, he was usually doing the same thing as her (though he refused to show her his answers – Misty suspected it was because he doodled all over his work).

She'd barely walked a minute when she snapped out of her thoughts and realized something. There were only copies of two different kinds of posters. But there were supposed to be three, each giving the location of one of the three places they were going to set up the bake sale stands.

Before she knew it, she was ringing Drew's doorbell again. This time, a woman answered the door. She had loosely braided light brown hair, a gentle smile, and green eyes that matched Drew's.

"Hello," she said kindly in a soft-spoken voice.

"Hi," Misty said politely. "Is, uh, Drew home?"

She mentally hit herself. Of course Drew was home. She'd only just been talking to him.

"Oh, yes, he was saying something about someone from the student council coming over. Come in."

She stepped aside and let Misty enter, and Misty felt eternally grateful for a chance to step out of the cold. But what struck her after the warmth was how quiet the house was. Everything was so tidy, it felt even the sound had been put away. It made her jump when a Pokemon's voice suddenly spoke up from a corner.

"Rose." A Roserade was standing near a large pot, apparently adjusting the flowers planted in it. Something about the way it greeted her was very reminiscent of Drew.

"My son said you'd just picked up some things and left," the woman said, directing Misty's attention back to her. "Is there something else?"

"Yes, um, he forgot to give me something," Misty said, lowering her voice. How silent it was was unnerving, maybe because she was so used to always having some kind of background noise. Here, it felt as if being equally quiet as the house was obligatory.

"All right, I'll let him know."

Misty wasn't sure how Drew's mother was going to call him without interrupting the quietude, but her thoughts were answered when, instead of using her voice, the woman picked up her cell phone and typed in a text.

"He'll be right down," she told her.

"Right. Thanks Mrs. Hayden."

The woman smiled. "Actually, I kept my maiden name, so my last name is Greenwillow. But either way, please, just call me Fia."

"All right…"

"Um, yes?" Misty turned as a new voice entered the conversation. Drew was standing at the bottom of a staircase, raising an eyebrow at Misty. "What is it?"

"You only gave me two different kinds of posters," Misty said. "Where's the third?"

Drew's eyebrows furrowed. "What?" He took the envelope from Misty and flipped through the pages inside. "Did I…?" He closed his eyes. "Shoot. I might have forgotten to photocopy the last one. But I could have sworn I did…"

"Can you do it now?"

"Yeah, I guess." He shrugged. "It'll take a while though." He handed her back the envelope and headed back upstairs. Misty stared after him, unsure if she should follow.

 _He didn't tell me not to,_ she reasoned. _Besides, he can't expect me to just sit around here doing nothing for who knows how long._ She smiled and nodded politely at Fia and made her way upstairs after him. By the time she reached the top, he was leaving a room, which she figured was his, and he went to stand in front of another shut door.

"I think I left it in there," he said, gesturing his head to the door before turning the knob. He frowned when the door didn't open. "Great, my sister…" He knocked lightly. "Hey, open up."

No answer. He knocked again. "I need something. Open up."

"You're never going to get anything if you're that quiet," Misty interjected. "Trust me, I have _three_ older sisters."

"Really?" Drew smirked. "Three of _these_?" He jerked his thumb towards the door. "And you're still alive?"

"Yup. Why'd you think I'm so well-rehearsed in the art of yelling?"

"My respect for you has just risen to a level I never thought possible."

"You want me to give it a try?"

"I'd rather you not." Drew jerked his thumb towards the stairs. "We rent out our basement, and one of the things we guarantee is quietness. If you start yelling, our tenant's going to start complaining." He smirked and flipped his hair. "But do you _really_ think I've lived with my sister my whole life to have no clue on how to get under her skin?" He turned back to the door and knocked. "Last chance. Open up."

No answer. Misty could feel her patience slipping. Was this all he was going to do?

"You asked for it." Drew folded his arms, and said in a sing-song voice, "Oh, _Leeeavannaaaa_! My dear, sweet Leavanna! _Leavannaaaa_!"

The door flew open so fast, Misty was convinced his sister must have been standing right by it the whole time. But when her eyes landed on the girl's face, her mouth dropped open.

It was someone she knew. Someone she knew quite well, actually.

"How many times," his sister said, her voice low, dangerous, "have I warned you that I would burn down your precious little bookshelf if you call me that, you little pest?"

"Enough times for me to know you're bluffing," Drew said, grinning.

"Not this time."

"Sure, Leaf. Sure."

Leaf. Leaf Green was Drew Hayden's sister.

Or was that even her name? Drew had called her Leavanna.

 _Leaf is short for Leavanna,_ Misty realized. _She uses a nickname, like me. But then where did 'Green' come from? Why not 'Hayden'?_

The answer was so obvious Misty nearly hit herself.

 _Greenwillow. **Green** willow. Duh!_

Now that she thought of it, she might have come across the name 'Leavanna Greenwillow Hayden' in the yearbook when she had been searching for the identity of 'Leaf Green', back when she'd made that deal with Gary.

 _Stupid Gary expected me to find her when he hadn't even given me her real name._

"Oh great," Leaf said, her eyes landing on Misty. "You brought a Gyarados into the house."

Misty rolled her eyes. "You didn't tell me your sister was a Seviper, Drew."

"A Serperior, actually," Leaf shot back.

"Yeah, yeah," Drew said dismissively, shoving into the room, which, from the looks of it, was a kind of study.

"What do you want, Pest?" Leaf snapped, her eyes following her younger brother as he went to the photocopier.

"Forgot something here."

"You mean that stack of posters? I put it there." She pointed to the corner of the desk.

"Oh, thanks. So I did photocopy it…"

"What kind of guy forgets an entire stack of papers he photocopied in the photocopier?"

"The kind of guy you're related to," Drew said, flashing a smile at her as he, with the stack of posters, went out the door. Misty was expecting Leaf to slam the door after him, the way she would when she wanted to keep her older sisters out, but instead, Leaf huffed in a mildly irritated way, and quietly shut the door after him.

Misty frowned. _She's not really like my sisters, actually._ Leaf and Drew's banter seemed a lot less vicious and more playful than when she and her sisters were fighting. She followed Drew into his room, slightly jealous that she couldn't have their kind of relationship with her siblings.

"Paperclip," Drew muttered, opening one of his desk drawers. Misty, though, found herself more fixated on his room than his search for a paperclip.

Everything was so tidy, so perfectly furnished, and expensively too. His laptop, which was lying on his desk, was one of the priciest Misty had seen in stores. His desk was of polished wood, with nicely organized drawers and shelves. The bookshelf Leaf had mentioned was nowhere near "little"; it nearly reached the ceiling and was packed with books. One book lay on his bed, something like 'Death Note' written on the cover. She was pretty sure she'd seen Leaf with it in the library once.

 _He must have been reading that before I got here. I guess both the siblings like to read._

Her eyes travelled to the walls, which were adorned by framed pictures, each depicting Drew as what looked like the winner of several junior Pokemon contests, a Roselia or Roserade at his side.

 _The same one as the one downstairs?_

And in some was a young woman with long pink hair at his side. Was she a judge? She didn't look young enough to be a competitor in junior Pokemon contests.

"Yes, I know, I'm talented," Drew said, snapping her back to reality. He flipped his hair and smirked arrogantly in a way that made her skin boil. He handed her the stack of posters, now held together with a paperclip. "But you shouldn't forget what you're here for, should you?"

Misty rolled her eyes and slipped the stack into the envelope. Her tongue was itching to retaliate, but a small framed picture on his bedside table caught her attention.

"Is your hair dyed?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Drew blinked. "What?"

She pointed to the picture. It was a family picture, with Drew's mother, a man who she presumed was his father, a younger Leaf, and a younger Drew. But what stood out to her was that Drew was the only one with grassy green hair. She'd assumed that his hair colour came from his father (since it clearly didn't come from his mother), but apparently not. In fact, he didn't resemble his father in the slightest: the man looked a lot more like Leaf than Drew. The difference was, perhaps, the fact that his tired eyes and smile looked genuine and hardworking as opposed to Leaf's calculating, condescending gaze.

"Um, no," Drew said, sounding slightly offended. "I come from a long line of green-haired people. From my dad's side."

"Right." She looked pointedly at the picture. His dad's hair was brown, the same shade as Leaf's.

"He was the oddball. His entire family has green hair. Even both his parents."

"And you ended up being the oddball in _your_ family."

Drew shrugged. "I guess, if you want to look at it that way." He yawned. "Anyways, you got your stack of posters. Aren't you forgetting what you're supposed to do next?"

"What?"

"Leave."

"Why'd you wanna get rid of me so badly? Afraid I'll lose my temper and bother your tenant?"

He shrugged. "Something like that."

"Must suck to have to be so quiet all the time."

"Oh, that's got nothing to do with the tenant. We're just a quiet family. Trust me: he's leaving at the end of this month, and once he does, there is going to be absolutely no difference in the noise level of this house."

"Really? How could you be so quiet all the time? It's basically dead silent!"

"Just because you like making noise everywhere you go doesn't mean everyone else does too. Speaking of which, you _really_ have forced me to put up with your noisiness for long enough. So yeah. Run along."

Her eyes narrowed and she was about to snap back when she realized that while Drew didn't like her butting into his quiet house, _she_ didn't like remaining in its unnerving quietude. Perhaps it _was_ time to leave.

"Fine then," she said, trying not to make it too obvious that she was gritting her teeth. "Just a little tip, though, the way you talk all haughty like that is going to end up making people hate you. You probably don't care about me, but any time in the future there's someone you gotta get along with, you might wanna change you're attitude. 'Cause it's the kind that makes people want to rip your throat out."

"I'll keep that in mind," Drew said sardonically, and she caught a glance of him flipping his green locks as she turned and walked out his room.

 _Arrogant Drew, condescending Leaf, a nerve-wreckingly bizarre quietness?_ she thought as she walked out the front door, politely waving back at Fia as she did. _I am **so** never coming back here._

* * *

 **And chapter eleven hath been completed! It's funny, though: I'd been planning to make Drew and Leaf siblings in this story since the beginning, and just a short while back, before I posted this chapter, someone left a review for one of my other fanfics saying that Drew and Leaf could be siblings.  
**

 **Anyways, sorry for the very late posting of this chapter (life stuff hinder my ability to constantly update). Time to start working on the next chapter! (Though who knows how long it will be before I finish it… )**

 **Bye bye for now!**

 **Have a great day, and smile all the way! :)**


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